


Saturday, March Sixth

by Daisyflo, HarpiaHarpyja, SpaceWaffleHouseTM



Category: Midnight Special (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: All the Best Pussu, Angst, Canon compliant (to an extent), Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Domestic Fluff, Excessive Waffle House Product Placement, F/M, First Time, Fish out of Water, Fluff, Happy Ending, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Interdimensional Travel, Oral Sex, POV Paul Sevier, POV Rey (Star Wars), Planetarium Smut, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Sevier Fucks in French, Smut, Space and Genitalia Were Involved, Wall Sex, Wormholes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2020-02-29 13:36:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 66,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18779341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daisyflo/pseuds/Daisyflo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarpiaHarpyja/pseuds/HarpiaHarpyja, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceWaffleHouseTM/pseuds/SpaceWaffleHouseTM
Summary: A year after colluding to aid the escape of Alton Meyer, NSA agent Paul Sevier is stationed in Atlanta, GA, searching for information that may offer answers about the day an alien city appeared in the sky. He gets more than he bargained for when he witnesses a new alien craft plummeting from the sky into an abandoned field at midnight—and finds a young woman inside who seems to think he is someone called Ben.





	1. From the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! The three of use have been working on this fic over the last few months, pecking away at chapters in between our other respective WIPs. There are lots of (wonderful) fics out there pairing Rey with Flip, Philip, Clyde, etc., and we thought - 'Hey, doesn't Paul Sevier, consummate handcuff enthusiast and upstanding NSA agent, breaker of chains, colluder in alien plots, grown-ass man with the fashion sense of a ten-year-old boy who was dressed by his mom for class photo day, deserve some action?' The answer, as it turned out, was yes. So here we are.
> 
> A few notes. For anyone unfamiliar with Midnight Special, here's a gist: A boy named Alton Meyer is discovered during a raid on a cult compound. He appears to have strange powers and has provided mysterious sets of coordinates to authorities. Paul Sevier, an NSA agent, is called on to help figure out what these coordinates mean, and what the significance of the date Friday, March 6th, could be. After a series of misadventures, government plotting, and kidnappings, Paul aids Alton's father and a friend in reuniting Alton with his _real_ people - surprise, it's aliens - in the middle of a field on Friday, March 6th. No explanation is given. Our story picks up the next year.
> 
> And second, while Reylo does appear in this story via references, visions, fantasies, and Rey's rather broken-hearted memories, it is a background ship. The main focus will be Paul and Rey's relationship during her time on Earth as he tries to help her get home. However, it's also understood that Reylo is endgame.

Saturday, March sixth, 2017, was one of the foggiest days Paul had ever seen in his life. The low-lying clouds were so thick as he made his drive south through the Appalachian Mountains—en route to his temporary home in Atlanta after a trip north to the nation’s capital—he could barely see ten feet ahead of him, and he was forced to drive twenty miles below the posted speed limit of fifty. Anxiety filled him at the thought of an animal jumping out onto the road; even with his headlights on, he wouldn’t see it coming until it was too late. 

Hell, he wouldn’t see  _ anything  _ until it was practically on top of him. 

Despite this, he continued on through rural north Georgia, traveling south to where he’d been based two months earlier in Atlanta. He was there to investigate the information discovered unintentionally a year earlier by Alton Meyer, a boy he suspected was no longer on Earth. At least, neither he nor the boy’s family had seen hide or hair of him, and Paul had been keeping an extremely attentive eye out for any sign of his reappearance, or just anything out of the ordinary in general. 

Especially on the anniversary of the date his world had collided with Alton’s. 

In spite of his present location seventy-five miles to the north of the city, Paul’s radio was working perfectly, and as if he’d summoned it with his thoughts, the newscast turned its focus to what had happened exactly one year earlier. 

_ “And today marks the first anniversary of the day scientists believe two worlds collided…”  _ a masculine voice was saying. “ _ I don’t know if I believe it. I’m still in the camp of a mass hallucinogen myself, but it’s trending on Twitter, and therefore, I have to talk about it.” _

A snort of laughter escaped Paul as he drove through a brief reprieve in the fog, the mountain’s eroded, downward slope giving way to a valley. He felt tension leave his body as he brought the car into a curve, listening to the voice on the radio as it spoke about the life-altering event Paul had been a direct witness to. 

_ “Maybe not a hallucinogen, but if it’s not that, it’s aliens… but why would they come and go like that? What was their purpose only showing themselves—and not even their faces! Just their architecture!—for about five minutes and then disappearing? Why did they come?” _

_ Fuck _ , if that wasn’t a question he asked himself daily. He had an inkling they’d only come to find Alton, and every fiber of his being told him that hunch was right. He’d only been able to watch what had happened from a distance, hypnotized by the sight of the tall, winding structures that had appeared from nowhere. 

_ “Either way, I don’t think any of us will ever be able to forget what we were doing that day or where we were when we looked out the window, and for five minutes, the world looked completely different.” _

No, Paul would never be able to forget. In fact, his work forbade him from forgetting. He was living in the southeast because of what had happened a year ago—because the strange boy he’d betrayed his government for had listed the coordinates of that city. And yet he’d found  _ nothing  _ of import in two months of living there. Two months more and they’d transfer him to the next city on the list, and the cycle would start all over again. 

The radio announcer’s voice perked up again, but Paul was no longer paying attention to it. His gaze was focused on the road ahead of him as he started driving by a field over a hill. Around him the fog had started thickening again, and he groaned as his visibility decreased. This change, however, wasn’t going to last long. 

Before big moments, he’d noticed that sometimes there was a silence no matter how loud the volume was in a room. The air pressure dropped, the world stood still, and everything was so fucking quiet he wondered if he’d gone deaf. This tended to last only half a second, but that tiny little fraction of time always went by in slow motion, making it feel more like minutes or hours. 

This time was no different.

Suddenly, Paul broke out of his trance as a brilliant, vibrant streak of blue light shot down across the sky. His eyes went wide behind his glasses as a low-flying aircraft barreled directly toward him, certain to make an impact if he didn’t react fast enough. He slammed his foot on the brake, and the scent of burning rubber filled his car as it skidded to a sudden, grinding halt that gave him whiplash as he turned to watch the aircraft’s remaining descent. 

It was moving fast—phenomenally so—to the point where he was certain he’d never seen anything move so quickly. Within the same second it had nearly hit him, Paul watched the streak of blue violently collide with the field nearby. Somehow it managed not to burst into flame.  _ It doesn’t run on flammable fuel _ , he noted.  _ Not gasoline.  _ But what the hell didn’t run on gasoline or oil? What on Earth didn’t run on something flammable? On further consideration, though, he realized one fact to be true almost instantly— _ this ship was not from Earth _ . 

Fear coursing through his veins, he put his car in park, not bothering to pull over as he hurried out of it and into the field beyond the road. He had to know what was in that ship—it didn’t even occur to him that it might be dangerous. What if Alton had returned to earth? What if he was finally about to get the answers he’d been searching for over the past year? His breathing grew short as he ran up to the strange-looking ship and observed it. It sparked electrically in places but never seemed to catch fire despite how deeply it had buried itself in the dirt. 

“Hello?” he shouted, though he wondered if that would do him any good. Unless this was Alton, what were his odds that the pilot or crew of the ship—it was rather small, so he wagered there weren’t too many people on board—were even able to speak English? “Can you hear me?” 

Equally useless, but still, he figured he’d give them ample warning that he was coming, just in case they didn’t react well to being surprised. 

Paul’s breath was completely gone by the time he reached the buried front of the ship. Despite his lungs burning, he stopped dead, his whole body frozen as he watched a hatch-like door open on the side of the ship’s bow. At least, it looked like a bow. He wasn’t sure exactly what to call it on an alien spaceship. Still, he watched as it opened with a slight puff of steam rising from its interior. Nothing came out. He waited thirty seconds, but there were no signs of movement within the odd spacecraft. 

That could’ve meant a number of things, but if that was the ship’s cockpit—ah, that was the word he was looking for—then that was where the pilot would be. And if the pilot hadn’t moved… 

Paul rushed forward, bracing himself against the ship’s hull as he peered into the darkness of its interior. Well, it wasn’t completely dark: there were lights flickering and fading on a dashboard of buttons with labels he couldn’t entirely understand and a few red emergency lights on the ceiling. It was just bright enough to cast a red glow across the bruised face of its pilot. The light glinted off of her glistening eyes as they struggled to stay open, watching him like a hawk as he stood there at the door of her half-buried ship. 

They both froze at the same time, taking each other in. Paul was shocked to find that the woman in the cockpit—and seemingly the only individual on board—was completely human, with no traces of any sort of extra-terrestrial features present on her body that he could see. Her blood was even the same color as his, and he winced sympathetically as he took in her injuries. There was a cut on her arm that almost looked more like a burn than the mark of any sort of blade, and on the corner of her forehead was a shiner from which a steady but slow current of crimson was streaming down her face and onto her neck. The pretty gray fabric of her—was it a tunic?—was stained thoroughly where the blood had started to pool, and Paul stared at it for a second before his eyes flicked back to meet hers. 

The stare she gave him was curious in its nature, even though he could tell she was struggling to hold on to consciousness. Her lips moved, whispering something faint. 

Paul leaned down, not quite catching what she said. “What?”

She shuddered, then she said it again, and this time he caught the one-word question that tumbled from her lips. “Ben?”

He hesitated. There was a decision here, maybe the life-altering kind, so like the one he’d made a year ago. He did not know who this woman was, or why she was asking for someone called Ben, or why she had just plummeted from the sky in a spacecraft. He did know, with uncanny certainty, that he needed to help her. The matter of how eluded him, but the resolve was there, sudden and fully formed. He would figure it out. Getting her out of the cockpit would be a start.

“My name is Paul.” He crouched nearer and tried not to think how ridiculous an introduction seemed in the circumstances. “I think you’ve— You’ve hit your head. Can you tell me your name?”

The woman’s brow twitched and her eyelids flitted rapidly. God, was she about to lose consciousness? But she just shook her head a fraction. 

“Yes . . . of course I can tell—” She gave a quiet gasp of pain, and her voice was still like a whisper. “Rey. I’m Rey.”

Odd name. But not as odd as it could have been. “Okay. Um. Rey, I’m going to get you out of this ship.”

Was he?  _ How _ ?

She didn’t appear to be listening. Though her eyes were fixed on him with alarming intensity, she was muttering nonsense to herself. “Please don’t make me leave you . . . you were supposed to come back . . . I  _ knew _ you would . . . come back . . .” Her words tapered, and she struggled to sit up, swatting with stiff fingers at something like a harness that was strapping her in. 

“Wait, wait.” Paul reached for her hand, faltering a little, if only to still her movements. If she was injured, she might just make it worse. “Do you think—”

He had been about to ask her if she could stand, but her eyes flickered again and then she really did pass out.

“Shit.”

Rey was in and out of consciousness in the minute or so it took him to figure out how to free her from the harness and slide his arms under her body to lift her out. She was fairly light but surprisingly solid. With a grunt, he rose with her, one arm caught beneath her knees, the other supporting her back. Her head lolled against his shoulder, which he supposed would keep her neck steady enough. It was the best he could do, especially when he recalled that he was no short distance from the road.

He was sweating and his arms were aching when he made it to his car. The pervasive mist turned out to be a good thing, cool against his face and neck as he got the passenger-side door open and gently laid Rey inside. Paul had the vague thought that movies always made this stuff look easy—but here he was, glasses fogging up while he tried not to knock his head or hers against the side of the door, tried to position her legs comfortably, tried to tuck her in and buckle her up, and none of it was very easy at all because she kept moving and rambling. And touching his face. She had touched his face a lot and nearly knocked his glasses off twice. A real problem in the middle of an unlit field in the dead of night.

Hey, at least that meant she was still alive.

They were on the move soon enough, the defroster cranked as high as it would go, passenger-side seat warmer turned on low to keep her comfortable. He wished he had a blanket for her, but this would just have to do. When he dared to take his eyes off the road to check on her—his anxieties had shifted away from animals jumping into the road and now bounced between the notion that he might have left fingerprints or footprints behind and that she might pass out as he drove and not regain consciousness—he always found her staring at him, sad and glassy eyed. He began to worry she might be concussed. 

If he brought her to an ER . . . questions, eventually. She had no identification. Once the authorities found the spacecraft, it wouldn’t be long until they found records of an unidentified woman showing up at a nearby hospital with collision injuries. She’d end up in an interrogation room, a holding facility, a cell. She’d end up like Alton, and Paul didn’t believe he’d have the same luck again.

_ Not the hospital _ . 

The thought bloomed sudden and solid and clear, more like an instinct. Fine. He had a computer. He had basic medical supplies. He could just . . . look up how to treat someone with a mild concussion and take it from there.

Paul looked over at Rey again. Her attention was fixed on the windshield, her eyes following the wipers’ intermittent movements, and she squinted in the glare of streetlights as the car drew closer to populated areas. Strip malls began to appear. Fast-food restaurants. Pharmacies. She had stopped asking questions and trying to speak to him. The scents of sweat and smoke rolled off her. He hadn’t noticed it outside, even with her tucked so close against his body. Now he caught how she smelled like she'd been in a fire but looked like she'd been in a fight. It hadn’t just been the crash, either.

What was this woman’s deal?

“Where are you taking me?” she croaked. The sound of her voice made him jump as they came to a red light.

“Someplace safe.”  _ Back to my apartment _ sounded too threatening, even if it was true. Would that even mean anything to her? “I think you’re in shock. Maybe have a concussion. I can help you.”

He almost said,  _ I’ve done this before _ , but that wasn’t really true, and he doubted it would comfort her. Instead, he said, with less certainty than he’d hoped, “Don’t be afraid.”

It seemed to have the opposite of his intended effect. She flinched and continued to appear beyond consolation—just nodded numbly and returned her attention to the view outside the window.

She was still awake when he pulled into his parking spot, and she managed to stand on her own when he tried to help her out. Her steps were unsteady, but she kept refusing his offer of an arm to lean on, so he followed close behind, casting the occasional look at neighboring windows as they made their way up the steps. If anyone was awake and looking out, he doubted they would care that the NSA guy was escorting a strangely dressed, possibly inebriated woman into his place. He was pretty sure his neighbors all thought he was a workaholic or a hermit, neither of which was terribly far from the truth. Ordinarily, that didn’t bother him. 

Yet a year ago he had been reminded of how big the universe really was, and ever since then he sometimes felt a deep and peculiar loneliness that reared its head at the least convenient moments. Driving down an empty street at dawn; sitting alone, catching a late-night movie; finding a woman who had dropped out of the sky as if from nowhere at all. At times like that, at times like  _ this, _ it was impossible to ignore that gnaw of existential solitude. 

He ushered Rey inside and back to the guest bedroom with little trouble, except for a moment when he had to have her wait for him to corral his dog in the office. Como’s barks of concern followed them the rest of the way.

Rey lowered herself onto the edge of the bed, her eyes roaming over the room as he turned a lamp on and ducked into the bathroom for the first-aid kit. When he sat beside her to try to see to the wound on her arm, she startled and shrank away, practically baring her teeth, as if she had only just noticed that he was with her.

“Don’t touch that. I can do it myself.” 

She snatched the swab, which he’d soaked in rubbing alcohol, from his hand and dabbed it over the cut. She didn’t even wince. It wasn’t deep, at least—a good thing, as he didn’t trust that he could handle doing stitches. He was beginning to think she might be the sort to manage them herself, though.

“Do you have bacta?” she asked after a few moments.

Paul shook his head, more out of confusion than denial. “I don’t think so. Bacta. Is that like . . .” He picked through the first-aid kit and found a barely used tube of Neosporin. “Do you mean antibacterial gel?”

Rey stared at the tube with poorly concealed displeasure, then took it. “This’ll do.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He cleared his throat and set the gauze pads and medical tape next to her, then tried not to stare as she saw to her needs with practiced efficiency. “Um . . . I think, once you’re cleaned up, you should rest here for the night.”

God, he wanted to ask where she had come from. If she knew Alton. If she’d been sent here for a purpose. If he could help her in some way. He had a distinct feeling that she would not be up to such questioning tonight. Right now, he just wanted to get her to trust him. So he needed to demonstrate to her that she would be secure here. The sound of an anxious German shepherd baying down the hall probably wasn’t helping.

She nodded, blinking rapidly as she wrapped her arm. “I— I don’t understand what’s happening.” She had a pleasant voice, on the low side for a woman, and what reminded him (bizarrely) of a British accent, firm and fearless. Right now, it was also laced with deep sadness. She pressed a finger to the darkening bruise at her temple. “I can’t remember what— Where—”

“It’s okay. There’ll be time to figure it out.” He lifted a hand to give her a reassuring pat on the back, then thought better of it. Instead, he offered her the box that held the rest of the medical supplies. She still had blood and grime to wash away, smaller wounds on her face and hands, bruises everywhere. Nothing ointment and bandages wouldn’t help. He hoped. “The bathroom is just through that door. There’s water, and towels. Soap.”

“I think I’m dreaming . . .” she said, almost to herself. She kept rubbing at her arm, over the gauze, like it was some way to comfort herself. Her gaze fixed itself back on his face and stuck there. The look in her eyes was one of confusion and disappointment. “This isn’t real. You’re not him.”

Her words trailed, and she bit her lip, then rose slowly and limped off to the bathroom. He heard her boots shuffling and the water running, a cabinet door opening and closing. If she was rummaging through his things, fine. There was nothing terribly exciting to find—the usual bachelor stuff. Paul rejected the compulsion to go watch over her and settled to get her a glass of water from the kitchen, then find her a change of clothes in his bureau while he waited (and hoped he didn’t also hear the sound of a body hitting the floor). When she returned a few minutes later she seemed surprised to find him there waiting. Perhaps she had reasoned that if this was a dream, she could will him away.

He couldn’t figure out why it was that every time she laid eyes on him, she looked like she wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Or punch him in the face, which was even more puzzling. Slowly, concerned he might startle her enough that she actually  _ would _ punch him in the face, Paul got to his feet and held out the clothes he’d found for her: a Talking Heads T-shirt and some sweatpants. She was very slim, and anything he owned would be too big for her by default, but the sweats at least had a drawstring she could cinch.

Suitable clothing: another problem to solve tomorrow.

“A change of clothing,” he prompted her when she only regarded his offering with confused suspicion. “Since yours are so . . .”  _ Filthy. Blackened. Smelly. Strange.  _ When she still said nothing, he added, “If you’re cold I can find something with longer sleeves.”

“M’not cold.” She took the bundle from him, and the look of unease on her face faded minutely. “Thank you.”

Well, that was something. 

“You’re welcome. Rey.” Paul looked around the room like he’d never seen it before. It was sparse but comfortable, largely unused since he hadn’t had any guests after his move. Did people have rooms like this where she came from? “You can sleep in here. The door locks. The sheets are fresh. Light switch is—”

“I can figure it out.”

“Right. Of course.” He heaved a sigh and turned to go. “I’ll give you your privacy, then.”

He was almost out the door, but her voice halted him. “How long do I need to stay here?”

She didn’t sound afraid or angry. In fact, she seemed to know he had no answer. It was almost as if she was asking some higher power. 

“I don’t know. But if I can help you find out how to get back to where you came from, I will.” Paul scratched his neck and looked over his shoulder at her. “I’ve . . . something like this has happened to me before. A year ago. Don’t worry.”

Rey regarded him with surprise, then her expression grew hazy again and she grimaced, rubbing at her bruised temple. “Sure. Great.”

She was still disoriented. Paul made a note to check on her throughout the night if he could. Just to make sure she was still breathing. Was it creepy? Sure. But he’d rather that than have her die on him. 

“I’ll be down the hall if you need anything.”

He shut the door quietly and left her. 

After all that, he'd meant to let Como out, calm him down, and then turn in himself. Instead, he let Como out, calmed him down, and settled onto the couch with a joint, still in his work clothes. He turned the TV on, too, but it was a hollow distraction, the same way the weed was, the same way Como was, curled up protectively at his feet. A part of Paul’s mind was insistent that this was all a very strange dream—Rey had said it herself. 

But it was all too . . . fitting, somehow. The date. The circumstances. That fact that of all the people who could have witnessed Rey’s ship crashing and found her still alive in that cockpit, it had been him. That fact that she seemed to know him.

Fuck, what was he going to  _ do _ ? For all his claims that he could help Rey, he had no idea where to start. By tomorrow, this would all be on the news. Her ship would be, at least. How long could he keep her existence a secret? How long could he keep her here at all? He had no right. This was exactly the sort of thing he’d been sent here to investigate, and once again, he was effectively interfering with his own job. 

That was a sly way of putting it. What he was doing was more than “interfering” with something. He was officially committing a crime. And it hardly bothered him. In fact, the more he thought of it, the more it felt  _ right _ , and the more it filled him with a sense of subversive pleasure. He knew that feeling. He’d had it a year ago as he watched Lucas and Roy drive away with Alton Meyer in their car.

Or it might have been the marijuana kicking in.

God, what a mess.

Paul never made it to his bed that night. Instead he put out the joint when he was halfway through it, moved it out of Como’s reach, and collapsed onto the couch. He was asleep by the time his head hit the pillow.


	2. All-Star Special

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for joining us again! We apologize for any food cravings and/or Smash Mouth songs this chapter gets stuck in your head.

The events of the night before were still blurry in Rey’s head when she woke up after a few hours.

It wasn’t a dream: the bed she was in, as cold at it was, was way too comfortable to be something provided by the  _ Falcon _ or the Resistance. After weeks of sleeping in a hut with nothing more than a stone bench for a bed, anything would’ve felt comfortable—but she had to admit this one made her feel like she was floating on a cloud.

The sensation faded away rather quickly, though, as a few memories rushed back in flashes. Sparks, a red room on fire, and the firm conviction that she was living her last moments. Relief, then: of being alive, of seeing Ben alive, and of having achieved her goal to reach out to him. 

Finally, disappointment at the realization that not every victory meant she’d won, and that there were things she just couldn’t allow herself to give in to, at least not for now.

_ Join me. Please. _

The words kept echoing in her head as she remembered all the questions that had followed this proposal, promptly cut off by her blunt yet necessary rejection.

It was the only way, she knew it. But even with that in mind, leaving him unconscious had been one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do. That, and flying the kriffing escape pod she’d stolen. Even though she considered herself quite a skilled pilot, the many buttons and incomprehensible directions had gotten the better of her and led to what she still couldn’t explain. A collision—an  _ explosion _ , maybe? None of it had been violent enough to hurt her, but the ship had suddenly been thrown out of control as if attracted by a force she couldn’t fight. Everything had turned dark, and without any warning, she’d found herself approaching an unknown planet at a vertiginous speed.

Then, there’d been this man. This obliging, annoying help of a man who’d lifted her out of her ship and taken her into his home without many questions. As for her, Rey had been filled with questions as soon as their eyes had met, starting with how in the worlds Ben could be here when she’d left him only minutes before? But he wasn’t Ben. He did look like him, but there was… something missing. Something that she couldn’t quite tell but missed every time her eyes lingered on him, so much that she ended up avoiding his gaze when he gave her his name.

She was almost tempted to keep her eyes shut, waiting for a familiar sound to let her know that she’d been dreaming all along. A blaster, an igniting lightsaber—anything but the deafening silence wrapping her since she’d regained consciousness. She was starting to consider never opening her eyes when a loud cry echoed from the other side of the house and made her jump. Just as the night before, it happened again, and again, then stopped after the sound of clumsy footsteps, followed by a door opening. 

A groan crossed Rey’s lips as she turned to the other side of the bed, a frown creasing her brow with irritation. None of the sounds echoing behind her door were familiar. She wasn’t on the  _ Supremacy— _ she wasn’t even on the  _ Falcon _ , and she suddenly missed the jangling she usually cursed. Another groan escaped her, then a sigh. Staying in bed wasn’t an option, not when she still had no idea where she was and what had happened to the Resistance’s fleet.  _ Kriff _ , her friends could be dead by now and she’d done nothing but crash and sleep more than she’d had in weeks...what kind of friend was she?

“Alright,” she muttered as she opened her eyes.

The room hadn’t changed since the night before: the walls were still black, the only other thing of note aside from the bed bed a huge wardrobe blocking most of the light that pierced through the red-curtained window. A sad, short-lived smile blossomed at the corner of her mouth at the thought that her host seemed to have the same tastes in colors as Snoke. Disgust filled her at the memory of the Supreme Leader, then relief when she remembered his fate. Remorse, then, at the thought of Ben waking up alone, probably light years away.

A trail of goosebumps emerged on her skin when the covers fell around her as she straightened up, only increased by her feet meeting the cold wooden floor. She’d seen worse, yet the feeling of her feet sinking into the depths of her boots brought her more satisfactions than she’d had in days. Fighting her reluctance to leave the room, she wrapped her arms in their usual cloth—mostly out of habit—and made her way to the door, hand trembling around the handle.

She immediately regretted stepping outside when a weird-looking creature rushed her, teeth and tongue out, eyes betraying an intense urge to jump at her that sent her heart to her feet.

“Como, here! Como— Como!”

The creature barely looked at its owner, eyes fixed on Rey, who immediately held her hands up in defense. Her eyes closed instinctively, waiting for the inevitable impact and whatever wound the creature would give her. A second passed, then two, but still nothing. Just a profound, heavy silence that urged her to take a glimpse at what had stopped the attack.

The creature was floating in the middle of the room, its gaze fixed on Rey’s hands.  _ She _ was doing it, she could feel it—that little twinge in her chest every time the effort was unexpected yet demanding. The creature wasn’t that threatening, now that she could see it properly: smaller than a happabore, covered with beautiful fur that reminded her of a Wookiee’s. It kept staring at her with a dumbfounded look, head tilted to the side. Not far behind, its owner looked at her with wide eyes, his lips parted in what seemed to be a mix of surprise and barely contained awe.

"What the—"

Rey didn’t understand the last word he uttered, but given his expression, its meaning was crystal clear. Regaining control of her breathing, she freed the creature from her remote grasp and took a few steps toward her host, who hadn’t taken his eyes off her.

“I’m—"

The words died on her lips.  _ A Jedi? _ The little training she’d received wasn’t enough to earn that title. Telling him she was with the Resistance was risky; even though he didn’t seem to be aware of the raging war, he could still very well be an enemy.  _ Especially with this face. _

“Do you mind… I’m sorry," he said. "I understand that you don’t trust me, but I only know your name and…”

His creature had joined him near a table, carefully hiding behind his legs. Similar to the behavior she’d learned to display on Jakku, he showed her his empty hands and leaned a little without breaking eye contact, making sure she didn’t feel threatened as he continued speaking. “I just want to understand, is there a reason you’re here?”

“I crashed,” Rey stated impatiently. She didn’t really have time for small talk. What she needed was news from the Resistance and a way to reach out to them safely before— 

“Yes, but I mean… do you know Alton?”

Half the irritation she’d felt at his inquiries vanished as Rey heard the despair in the man’s voice. Begrudgingly, she kept her questions to herself and swallowed her worries as she used a less defiant tone to answer. 

“No.” She didn’t know many people; at least she hadn’t, until this whole madness had begun. “Sorry,” she added out of politeness when she noticed the hint of disappointment in his eyes.

“So you’re from…?”

“Jakku.”

The name didn’t seem to ring a bell, which shouldn’t have surprised her. People usually laughed at her or chuckled at what used to be her home planet; but they did know about it. He, on the other hand, seemed… absolutely clueless, yet curious. After a brief frown, he took a breath and brought a tiny stick he’d been holding to his lips and released a puff of smoke.

“Jakku,” he repeated with a slow nod. “So… were you born there? How old are you?”

Even though she couldn’t see it, Rey felt the wince that crossed her face. She didn’t remember much of her life before Jakku: mostly words and noises, but the voices and faces had faded away long ago. She didn’t even know her birthday; the only date she’d used and known was the one she’d built her life around, a day of betrayal and sorrow she’d only started to detach herself from.

_ Filthy junk traders. _ The words Ben had told her just a few hours ago briefly echoed in her ears, sending a trail of shivers down her spine. 

“Nineteen,” she replied in a whisper.

_ Paul _ , she remembered his name now, nodded once again and wrote something down in a notebook. He seemed a little tense, his eyes shifting between her and his notes with those eyes she couldn’t help but search and avoid at the same time. After a few seconds of obvious hesitation, he bit his lips and cleared his throat, nervously tapping his pen against the table.

“Look, I don’t know how to tell you… I’ve never heard of Jakku, and what you did earlier—" Vague gestures of his hands accompanied his statement, mimicking her earlier use of the Force. “We don’t do it here.”

Once again, Rey felt several expressions cross her face. Jakku was known for its remoteness, but it  _ was _ known. Swallowing the lump that had begun to settle in her throat, she sat in the nearest chair and focused on her breathing to keep it from speeding up. His house, his clothes, his creature—it all seemed technologically advanced, yet slightly different than what she was used to. Even the way he kept drawing on that weird stick reminded her of the hookah pipe people used around Niima Outpost, yet didn’t smell the same. Everything just smelled, sounded, and looked like  _ too much _ .

Probably noticing the way she was staring, Paul offered her the stick with a trembling hand and an inquiring look.

Maybe this was some sort of custom she couldn’t refuse. Not wanting to risk anything, Rey cautiously took it between her thumb and index finger and mimicked what she’d seen him doing for a few minutes now. Immediately, her entire body seemed to have been invaded by something that was also  _ too much _ and she coughed a few times; a rough, painful cough that drew a few tears from her closed eyes.

“Fuck, I just offered pot to an alien,” he muttered as he rushed into another room.

Seconds later, Paul returned with a  clean, short, square cup full of water. It looked finer than any she’d ever seen. Of course, she hadn’t seen many water containers in her life that weren’t canteens, but still, everything on this planet marveled her, and the glass vessel he was now handing her was certainly no exception. She stared at it nervously for a moment, then took it in the hand that wasn’t holding the weird stick he’d handed her and began to drink. 

She wasn’t sure what was so different about this water compared to any other she’d ever tasted, but whatever it was had her gulping it all down within seconds. Something about how crisp and cool it was, how delightful it felt going down her throat made her nearly moan as she lowered the now empty glass from her lips and handed it back to him. 

Paul blinked at her but laughed as he took it. He gestured at the stick in her hand. “You have to take it slowly, know your limits…” he said, then cocked his head to the side, thinking for a moment. “We should also take this outside… my smoke alarm isn’t sensitive, but… I don’t want to run the risk of anyone finding you here.”

“What happens if they do?” Rey asked as they began to walk out of the apartment and onto an outdoor deck, where whatever response he gave to her question was lost to her as she took in the planet she was on for the first time. 

Around them was a dense forest, green shining in the morning light from the tops of trees that weaved themselves between a plethora of buildings of all sizes. In the distance, she could see buildings that reached up to touch the sky, running in all directions and dotting the horizon with their unusual shapes. Between it all was more and more forest, but despite that, the singing of insects wasn’t the only thing she heard as she took in the sounds around her. 

She could hear some kind of horn, and a constant, incessant rushing sound as if there was an odd, mechanical breeze blowing past them at all times. It occurred to her from stories she’d heard that this was just the sound of a city, but she’d never heard of one sounding quite like this. 

“What is this place?” she asked, taking another drag from the joint, careful to do it the way he’d suggested. This time, it burned only a little when she pulled air through the stick. When she exhaled the smoke through her lips and into the morning air, he managed to smile at her as they both leaned their arms on the deck railing. 

Paul gestured to the land around them, then pointed off to the tall buildings in the distance. “This is the city of Atlanta… it’s my home for the next few months until I get moved to San Angelo.” He laughed at that idea, then he shook his head. “But for now it’s… decent…”

“It’s humid…” Rey observed, feeling as though she was breathing in soup when she wasn’t taking hits off of whatever weird stick he’d handed her. 

He laughed again, making her wonder if this was what Ben sounded like when he laughed. Was this what he looked like when he was happy? When he smiled? Was she allowed to find it a bit enchanting even if he wasn’t the man she knew and— 

_ No.  _

“I want to tell you that you get used to it.” He gently reached over and took the joint from her hands, then took a hit off of it. “But you don’t…”

“I… I can imagine,” she replied, then she watched him blow smoke into the daytime air. “All this… I couldn’t ever get used to it… I can’t get used to it…” She turned her gaze on the azure sky, watching a tiny cirrus cloud make its way across the blue as it moved on the high winds. “I have to go back… my friends… the Resistance… they need me.”

“Who the hell are the Resistance?”

“You really don’t know, do you?”

Paul shook his head, confusion in his eyes as he watched her. “Rey… who are you?”

She ignored his question. “So you’ve never heard of the Resistance? The First Order?” With every  _ ‘no’  _ that he gave her, verbal or otherwise, Rey only grew more perplexed. “There’s no war here?”

“Somewhere… but it’s far away, it’s not here… it’s thousands of miles off.”

“That’s much closer than you think,” she assured him, then frowned, remembering the night before when he’d rescued her from her broken ship. When he’d carried her out, she’d been in and out of consciousness, but she’d gotten the briefest glimpse at the stars, and they didn’t look like any she’d ever seen. 

As if he sensed the her moment of realization, Paul reached forward—albeit a little hesitantly—and gently rested his free hand on her shoulder. “What is it?”

“I think I’m in the wrong galaxy…” she said, almost in a whisper, then coughed weakly. “I don’t know how… that should be impossible…” 

The idea was frightening, and a part of her wanted to collapse on the deck, to let the heat of the foreign, single sun above roast her alive through the soup of the planet’s atmosphere. The rest of her, though, was against such an idea, and she remained steady, listening to the sounds of the city for a moment while Paul backed away, giving her the space she needed to process being far away from… well, it wasn’t home, she’d never had one of those, but it was the closest she’d ever had to it.

“Jesus,” Paul breathed, and she blinked at him in confusion once again.  _ Who the hell was Jesus? _ “How… how are you feeling?” 

Rey thought about that for a moment, searching her feelings for a response in the face of this revelation, but only finding the growling of her stomach instead. “Hungry,” she answered him after a moment. “I’m hungry.”

Her new companion laughed as he passed her the joint, then as she took it to her lips once more, he managed another awkward giggle. “This sort of thing tends to do that to a person… looks like it’s just hitting you a hell of a lot faster than it hits me.”

She stepped back from the railing. “Guess so.”

Paul looked at her sympathetically, then he took the thing from her hand, and she watched as he snuffed it out before tossing it into a nearby metallic bin. “We’ll just have to get you something to eat then… and… and hope you’re not allergic to anything? Do you have allergies?”

“Not that I’m aware of… no.”

Another awkward pause, then he ran a hand through his hair. “Let’s just keep you away from peanuts just in case.”

“What’s a peanut?”

“If you’re not allergic… you have to find out…” he told her, then they walked back inside, and he looked her up and down, checking out her clothing… 

Or… or was he not as trustworthy as she’d initially thought? 

“ _ Shit!” _ Apparently, he’d noticed her reaction to his staring, and both she and the dog he’d left inside jumped at the sudden cry, the latter of the two letting out an alarmed bark. “Sorry, I just…  _ shit _ … I’m so sorry, I’m not very good at interacting with people um… I was staring because you’re still in my clothes… we need to get you things that fit…” He laughed again. “If we go out in public, people are… people are gonna think we…”

He gestured vaguely between them, and Rey looked at him in confusion as she followed him inside. “What?”

“That we…” he gestured again, but she still didn’t understand his meaning.

“That we what? Share clothes?”

He winced. “No… um… never mind. I’m sorry I brought it up.”

“I don’t even know what you brought up, but alright.” She laughed nervously, and he did the same, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Why do you bring up my clothes, though?”

“I… I’m running out of food. I’m going out to get more today, but…” He gestured to the kitchen area. “But we’re… we’re going to need to get something else in the meantime… I’m just trying to think of where to go that won’t bring attention to us if we look—”

Paul paused mid-thought, his eyes widening with the realization of something. 

“What?”

“Rey… I have an idea,” he said as she furrowed her brow in confusion. “Do you… No, you wouldn’t, but…” He walked over to his living room couch, picking up a spare grey sweater off of its back. “I’m about to show you an American rite of passage.”

“What’s an American?”

He laughed at that as he tossed her his jacket. “Come on, let’s get breakfast. I’m taking you to Waffle House,” he said. 

“What’s—?”

“Y-you’ll see,” he promised her, then offered Rey his hand. “There’s one down the street… join me?”

In that instant, she was taken back to the day before, when a different, black-gloved hand reached out to her, when another set of deep, brown eyes fixed on her own, when a different man asked her that exact same question.  _ Join me, _ he’d said, his voice so sincere she’d almost taken his hand. But she’d remembered her friends at the last possible second and reached for the lightsaber instead. Pain shot through her at the memory, but as she looked up into Paul’s eyes… there was something so unlike what she’d seen in Ben’s. 

She wasn’t sure what it was that separated the two, but it was enough for her to know without a shadow of a doubt that as much as they looked alike… Paul wasn’t Ben. With that in mind, she took his hand, returning the smile he gave her as he led her out of his apartment, grabbing his wallet on the way out. 

“We’ll be back in a little while, Como!” he shouted to his dog, who gave a responding happy bark before they walked into the hallway of the building. 

 

*

 

The Waffle House was not a house at all. It was a long, squat, rectangular building with a striped awning over the large glass windows and a yellow sign bearing letters Rey didn’t understand. According to Paul, it was the sort of place they could blend in no matter how strangely they were dressed (though he was just wearing the pants and wrinkled button-down shirt she’d seen him in last night, and she didn’t know what was so strange about that), so she had been expecting some sort of dingy smugglers’ bay or trading post where they might scrounge up some cheap, if questionable, rations.

Yet inside, the air was close and smelled like grease and food, and the room was brightly lit. There were tables everywhere, most already filled, and behind a long counter people in uniforms worked at a stove or ran back and forth with trays and beverage pots and little rectangular pads of paper.

It was a restaurant. She followed Paul to a table in the corner and slid into the booth across from him.

He looked around the room and then at her. “You okay?” 

He asked her that a lot. She supposed she must still look dazed to him. She wasn’t dazed. Her head hurt and she felt somewhat strange from that drug-stick they’d shared (he’d called it pot . . . some sort of funny tabac—it really was like the outpost hookah after all), but she was aware, and she was awake, and she was taking things in. She was thinking and trying to plan. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” she said. The walk from his home had cleared her head, but everything still felt wrong. She had a headache and was wearing his clothes, which smelled unfamiliar and were comfortable but too large. Mostly she just wanted to eat and put her own things back on, even if he did think they were weird. Some of the people in this place looked weird too. “What sort of food can we eat here?”

“Lots of things. Waffles. Bacon. Coffee. Hash browns . . .” 

He tilted his head and looked about to say something else when a tall woman with a tight gray ponytail and an apron walked up to the table and held out two glossy sheets of . . . well, it looked a bit like a thin plastic mat, and it was scrawled with more of those words Rey couldn’t understand. 

“Welcome to Waffle House, I’m Bev and— Oh, Paul, hey there.” The woman perked up and smiled at Paul, then glanced at Rey. “You’re usually alone, I didn’t even realize it was you at first.”

“Uh, yeah.” He cast a nervous look at Rey, who raised her eyebrows questioningly. “Having a friend stay a while.”

Bev chuckled and nodded. “Right. Good for you. So. Usual coffee and OJ for you, I assume . . .” Paul made a noise of agreement, eyes fixed on his glossy mat, which Rey realized was a menu. “And for you, sweetheart?”

It took Rey a few moments to realized Bev was speaking to her. “Oh. Er.” She squinted at her own menu, pretending to read it. “Coffee. And . . . OJ, also.”

“Gotcha. I’ll be back with those in a minute.”

When Bev had left them, Paul’s mouth twitched in a small smile as he adjusted his glasses. “Do you even know what coffee and OJ are?”

“I will when she brings them to me.” Rey frowned at the menu again and waved a dismissive hand at it. “I can't read this. But I'm starving, so I'll eat whatever's good.” Head tipped back, she drew a deep breath and tucked her hands into the overlong sleeves of the jacket he’d lent her. “It smells amazing in here.”

He chuckled at that and looked skeptical. “Glad you think so.”

When Bev returned with their drinks, Paul ordered their food, which consisted of another list of terms Rey understood only a handful of: two All-Star Specials with bacon and city ham, cheese on the grits, one of the waffles with pecans, scrambled eggs, and a triple order of hash browns ‘all the way’. Whatever that meant. Rey gulped down the OJ—turned out it was just some sort of brightly colored fruit juice, cold and refreshing. She didn’t need to try the coffee to realize she recognized that as well from the smell alone.

“You have caf on this planet,” she commented, pointing at the small white mug she’d been provided. 

“Caf? Oh, coffee, you mean?” Paul mouthed something to himself a couple times, then gave another one of those small, fleeting smiles. “Caf. Caffeine.” He laughed to himself, and Rey didn’t see what was so funny about that, but she nodded.

They were both silent a while, and Rey sensed it was because Paul had a lot he wanted to say to her, or maybe ask, but wasn’t sure how to start. She wasn’t sure she had much to say to him at all. She appreciated that he wanted to help her (or claimed he did), but she still had no idea how she had gotten here, or how she could get back to where she was needed. What if everyone was already dead? What if Ben had . . . 

It was difficult not to let her mind wander to the worst, even as she tried to ignore it all and focus on the moment at hand.

The fact that Paul looked and sounded so much like Ben was not helping with that. The thing was, she’d found that it wasn’t merely a close resemblance—allowing for the shorter hair and the absence of the scar on his face, he looked  _ exactly  _ like Ben. She was almost embarrassed to realize it was the tiniest details that tipped her off, things she’d only noticed in the hut on Ahch-To or in the lift on the  _ Supremacy _ . Moles and birthmarks on Ben’s face, placed precisely where Paul had them, and the way the light hit his eyes and seemed to change their color just so. His voice was the same, too, deep and complex. Yet where Ben’s had been by turns softly thoughtful and sharply intense, Paul’s was even and considered.

Rey flushed, annoyed and anxious and sad, and busied herself with her caf—coffee. This was no Force vision. It was too long and bizarre. 

“So . . .” Paul’s quiet voice broke her reverie, and she looked up at him over the rim of her mug. “This place you’re from. Jakku. They have coffee there. And they . . . speak English. But you can’t read?”

"I can read." Rey frowned. “I speak Basic. And a few other languages. Whatever your alphabet says, it makes no sense to me, and I’m not sure what English is, but I understand you.”

“Huh.” He took that in for a few moments, gaze drifting. “You know, in my work, I deal with things like that. Sort of. Codes. Communication.”

“What is your work?”

“I’m employed by my government’s defense agency. In intelligence.”

“Like . . . spies?” That was actually quite exciting.

“Uh, depends on who you ask. I'm an analyst.” He huffed. “What about you?”

“About me?” Kriff, Rey hated being asked that.

“Yeah. How did you . . . make a living? On Jakku.”

_ Making a living _ was a generous description.

“I was a scavenger,” she said, avoiding his eyes. “I stripped old shipwrecks and traded what I found for food and supplies.”

Paul’s eyes lit up briefly, and he leaned closer before asking in an undertone, “Shipwrecks as in boats? Or spaceships?”

“No boats in a desert.”

He looked impressed, maybe even excited, which had never been the sort of reaction she got when she shared her occupation, and she was not sure how it made her feel. Luckily, she didn’t have to dwell on it. Bev returned bearing a tray laden with more food than Rey was used to seeing in a week. 

“Is all of this for me?” Rey asked when Bev had left them again after refilling their mugs. Aside from her own plate, there was a mountain of brownish, greasy, shredded stuff on a plate in the middle of the table, and it smelled delicious. 

“If you can eat it all, yeah, I don’t see why not,” Paul said through a mouthful of bacon. “If you want to know what everything is I can—”

Rey didn’t wait for Paul to finish speaking before she dug in, heedless of anything else but the imperative to fill her belly. Still, he gamely tried to inform her about exactly what she was filling said belly  _ with _ , and by the time she was halfway through the waffle, she was familiar with the concept of hashbrowns and the many toppings one might wish to add to them. She’d cleared her plate by the time he was halfway through his own, and when he asked her if she was still hungry, he seemed happy to oblige her request for more of everything.

 

*

 

Paul was currently operating on the possibility that Rey had come from some alternate universe in which Earth was a desert wasteland called Jakku where people spoke English-but-not-English, traded machinery for instant-meal packets, and toiled away under the hot sun as they fought to survive. Or maybe he’d just watched  _ Dune _ and  _ Mad Max _ too many times. Yet that made about as much sense as anything else: that she’d come from Alton’s world, or from another, distant galaxy, or that he was losing his mind.

Well, if he was losing his mind, Target didn’t seem like the worst place to do it. He was loitering near the women’s clothing section, trying not to look like a creep and eyeing his phone every so often. He’d been unable to get a connection all morning and was wondering if it might have something to do with whatever made Rey crash last night. He had considered leaving her to do her shopping alone, because he still needed to stop at the grocery section, and they should probably also get her a few other necessities, but the idea of letting her out of his sight too long when he still didn’t know the full situation felt like too much of a risk. 

Besides, it was a little amusing to watch her browsing the racks of T-shirts and jeans and dresses. The way she’d frowned with judgment at the swimwear displays, up far too early as always, had made him laugh. She’d given him a sharp look and dumped her armful of selections into the cart, then gone off for more. 

It turned out there was more to consider than he had initially figured. Outerwear for rain. Something to sleep in. Shoes. Socks. Underwear.

Paul grimaced as Rey held up a tan bra—which was sort of ugly in his opinion, and absolutely several sizes too large for her, but how the hell was he going to tell her that?—and looked at him expectantly. 

“Uh . . . what?” he asked. “Do people not have underwear where you come from?”

He was grateful it was still relatively early on a Sunday morning. Having this conversation with the usual weekend afternoon crowds mulling around would have been embarrassing. It wasn’t that he was a prude; he just had very little to offer in the way of help on this topic. Hell, he hadn’t even known his last girlfriend’s bra size.

Rey scoffed and hung the bra back up, then grabbed another. It was black and seemed more likely to fit her . . . though it was difficult to speculate with her in that baggy T-shirt. “We have underwear, I’ve just never used one of these.”

Goddammit. Paul surreptitiously took one of those things that was more like a sports bra than an actual bra but with lace and held it out to her. “Maybe this then. It’s probably more comfortable anyway.”

She eyed it and accepted, giving it a stretch between her hands before throwing it into the cart with all the rest. The torture of the intimates section lasted a few more minutes until they were off to toiletries and then, finally, the boring solace of groceries. While Rey was investigating the modest selection of produce, Paul eyed the contents of his cart and tried to come up with a rough estimate of the total cost for all this  _ stuff _ he’d somehow ended up with. Turned out furnishing an entire other person with enough necessities to live comfortably from scratch was not cheap. 

It was fine. This was fine. This was necessary. She couldn’t go around indefinitely wearing his shirts and sweatpants and no underwear and—

Jesus. 

He turned his attention from the growing mountain of items in the cart back to her. She was balancing several avocados atop a bag of clementines and approaching him with a look of deep satisfaction. 

“These little fruits smell like the OJ from the Waffle House,” she commented as she placed them in the cart.

“They’re oranges,” he said. “OJ just means orange juice.”

Rey blinked, deadpan for several seconds, then huffed a small laugh. “Kriff, of course.” She grabbed one of the avocados and held it up. “What about this thing?”

“That’s an avocado.” Paul took it from her and squeezed—hard as a rock. “If you’re still here in a week it’ll probably be ready to eat. Uh . . . can you see if there are any softer ones? That means they’re ripe.”

Not that he had any plans to make guacamole (he needed to get more prepackaged meals; he was in no hurry to expose Rey to how terrible his cooking was), but at least she could . . . spread it on toast, or something. After seeing her put away no less than two All-Star Specials and two servings of hash browns, he was starting to think she could use the extra nutrients.

He was about to peruse the selection of bacon when he felt the telltale buzz of his phone in his back pocket, followed by the generic, tinny ringtone a moment later. He stole a look at Rey and checked the screen— _ shit _ . Paul winced, turned away from her, and sidled around the edge of an endcap to answer.

“Sevier,” he said in an undertone, staring down the ghost of his reflection in the door of the dairy fridge.

“ _ About time _ , I’ve been trying to reach you all morning.” Fantastic. It was Hox, his immediate superior—barely—at the Atlanta office.

Paul pursed his lips and pulled his phone away from his ear just long enough to glance at the screen and confirm what he already knew.

“I don’t have any missed calls or unread messages. Phone’s been acting up all morning.”

Hox muttered a curse under his breath. “Right. Listen, you’ve heard by now, I assume?”

Paul considered playing dumb, but there was a fine line between playing dumb and playing  _ too _ dumb. The damn mess was why he was out here, anyway. Kind of.

“The aircraft? Yes.”

“‘Aircraft’? You sound awfully cavalier about this.” Hox huffed. “No pilot found. Thing’s  _ clearly  _ not from Earth and lands the same day as—”

“Yeah, I get it.” Paul peered around the corner at Rey. She was leaning on the handles of the cart, watching him with calculated curiosity. “Look, I got tied up with . . . pet stuff this morning, but I’ll be in touch with the local authorities today and report back this evening.”

_ Pet stuff _ ? Not a lie, but also a piss-poor excuse.

“Great. Careful you don’t let your personal shit get in the way of the job, Sevier. Remember what happened last time.”

Paul opened his mouth to retort, but there was a snotty click and the connection went dead. 

“Asshole,” he muttered instead as he pocketed his phone and returned to Rey. She’d found some better avocados and added several packages of meat to the pile. He couldn’t fault her for being helpful.

Or perceptive. She could tell something was up; he saw it all over her face. “Who were you speaking to?”

“Work.” 

“Your government?”

He smiled tightly. “Yeah. Look, I’ll tell you what’s up, but here’s not the best place. Let’s pay for all this and get back to my apartment.” For the first time he noticed how truly shabby she looked. Even if she’d cleaned herself up last night, her face was still wan and bruised, her hair was still dirty, and her posture was that of an animal on its guard. “You can have a shower, if you want. Some more food. And I’ll tell you whatever you need to know.”

_ Whatever might help get you home _ .


	3. Wine and Trying Times

“How long will you be gone?”

The question pinched Paul’s heart the same way it had the first time she’d asked. For someone who was so keen on looking strong and brave, Rey suddenly appeared as vulnerable as her young features had first misled him to believe. Still wrapped up in the pajamas they’d found the day before at Target—simple grey sleeping pants and a white, rather transparent T-shirt he was trying his best not to look at—she gave him an inquiring look, emphasized by her crossed arms. The hint of a frown betrayed the nervousness he’d already detected in her voice.

“Just a few hours.” Guilt seized Paul when a flash of fear lit her eyes, pushing him to add, “Around four?”

After a brief glance at the watch wrapped around her wrist, Rey gave him a nod. “Six hours, then.”

Despite the amount of time spent at Waffle House, her first day on Earth had been a rich one in terms of learning. Even though Rey’s galaxy seemed to have different things such as fruits, technology, and beliefs, basic information such as time, language, and health appeared rather similar. She’d tried to explain her galaxy’s politics and war, which had made Paul wonder how he could ever complain about his own government again. She’d talked about this power, too—the Force, she called it. A power that also appeared to be a belief system, as well as a magical manifestation Paul still couldn’t quite explain nor deny, especially not after she had levitated his dog the day before. 

Speaking of ... 

“Como will protect you.” At the mention of his name, the German Shepherd left the couch and, curious, trotted to his owner.

Instinctively, Rey took a step backwards, her eyes fixed on the dog who, not the least embittered, stared at her with his usual pure kindness.

“He won’t hurt you,” Paul added immediately. Judging by the look Rey gave him, this wasn’t enough for her not to worry, which he could understand; Como was a rather big dog, especially for someone who’d never seen one before. “These animals— _ creatures _ —they’re some of the most loyal and obedient in the world. His goal is basically to love and protect, unless I tell him otherwise.”

She didn’t seem convinced yet, but she relaxed her posture at his words.

“Look, I’ll just put him in my room. If there’s any problem, let him out. Okay?”

But there wouldn’t be any problem. At least that’s what Paul told Rey as he left the apartment and what he repeated to himself the whole car ride to the office. As long as he stayed silent and didn’t expose Rey, there wouldn’t be any problem. As long as he made sure nobody knew where he’d been the night of the crash, there wouldn’t be any problem.

As long as Hox trusted him, there would be  _ absolutely _ no problem.

The walk into his office building became more surreal with every step he took. Nothing had changed; the interior was still cold and white, filled with endless corridors leading to way too many doors he’d never even opened. To anyone else, the place would’ve looked crowded and agitated, but to Paul, it was nothing more than a usual Monday morning. Hurried steps echoing against the plain walls, figures rushing around him as he progressed toward the elevator, phones ringing behind closed doors—if not for his own nervousness, he could’ve started wondering if Rey had been nothing but a dream. That is, of course, until the drawling voice of his superior dragged him out of his reading an hour later.

“You didn’t report back, last night.”

_ Shit. Right _ . “I, uh—”

“Pet stuff?”

Whether or not his raised eyebrows meant something, Paul didn’t like the look on Hox’s face as he stared at him, waiting for the answer he mumbled a second later. “Yeah, that. My dog was acting a bit crazy. Might be connected to the…”

Unable to finish his sentence without feeling that he was betraying himself, Paul vaguely waved his hand above his head. As surprising as it seemed, Hox appeared satisfied enough to nod and sit on the chair opposite to his, a frown betraying his concern.

“My cat did that too,” Hox confessed in a voice Paul rarely heard from him. A short silence settled, during which Paul almost heard his own gulp as he swallowed with difficulty, waiting for the inevitable question that followed shortly after. “Were you… contacted by him?”

_ Not exactly _ . “No. No, I wish he would but… nothing.”

The answer only earned him another suspicious look from Hox, to which he replied with a shrug. Having been raised in a rather severe atmosphere, lying wasn’t something Paul was very comfortable with, but the events of last year, as quickly as they’d happened, had changed him. And this wasn’t exactly a lie: Alton hadn’t contacted him. Omission wasn’t  _ exactly _ lying.

“So, you’re telling me an unidentified flying object crashed only sixty miles away from your apartment, and you didn’t go or call us, because your dog was slightly disturbed?”

_ Right _ ,  _ that didn’t sound anything like him. _

“Highly disturbed,” Paul corrected with an ease that surprised him. “And yes, I’m… not exactly eager to face another frustrating encounter.”

According to the look on his colleague’s face,  _ this _ sounded more like him. “Frustrating encounter,” Hox repeated pensively. “You got to talk to the kid when none of us could, remember that?”

Of course he remembered. How could he ever forget it? For the first time since he’d accepted this job, everything had suddenly made sense. With one simple request, a little boy he didn’t know anything about had made him feel special. At the mere memory of Alton’s powers, Paul felt a trail of shivers down his spine. That day, his job had had meaning in a way he could never have imagined. Maybe his existence had, too; because now, for the second time of his life, Paul felt responsible and able to help. All the questions he’d been thinking about for the last twelve months had rushed back with the new crash, but they’d been quickly replaced by an odd protective instinct every time Rey was around.

“Are you… are you afraid, Sevier?”

Only now realizing the soft heat rising in his cheeks, Paul looked up with an inquiring look he hoped would hide his inner confusion. “Afraid?”

“You know, with the whole kidnapping thing.”

Once again, Paul replied with an ease he still wasn’t used to. “Yeah, that, too.”

Despite years sharing an office and learning to know each other, Hox seemed to believe him and gave him another, softer nod. Again, lying wasn’t something Paul liked doing; but what he liked even less was how easy it had become over the past year. Short sentences were his best shot, as well as body language: brief shrugs and embarrassed sighs while looking away were usually enough to make people believe in his story and leave him alone. No one wanted to embarrass a man who’d been captured by a little alien boy, especially when they still hadn’t found anything about said boy’s origins or powers.

“Anyway,” Paul added after another silence, “what do you have so far?”

In the blink of an eye, Hox’s expression turned back to a more serious one, and he straightened up in his chair. “Not much, I’m afraid. Unusual radiation, unexplained burns on the ground… the expected.”

“What about the ship?”

Paul knew the second the words left his mouth they hadn’t come out as detached as he’d planned. Just as surprised as he was, Hox raised both eyebrows, an incredulous grin rising on his lips as he spoke. “Who said anything about a ship?”

“Just a way of speaking,” Paul replied with a shrug. “What about the ‘unidentified flying object’, then?”

“ _ Crashing _ object,” Hox corrected. “Not much either. The Army seized it before I arrived. I couldn’t even see it myself.”

With more caution, Paul managed to keep him talking about everything he knew. According to Hox, the radiation had lasted twice as long and gone further than that of a regular air crash, which led him to favor the alien theory and, more specifically, the Alton one, which Paul brightly encouraged.

Five hours, three files, and forty minutes later, Paul parked in the common driveway with a mix of relief and nervousness tightening his chest. Giving Rey a phone would’ve made his day less stressful, but this was exactly the kind of purchase that could raise suspicions. Hox may have believed him, but Paul wasn’t that naïve; he, too, would have suspected himself. His unusual expenses were already way too suspicious.

Another thing he found suspicious was the silence that filled his apartment when he opened the door. No barks welcomed him when he locked up behind him; neither did a simple greeting when he cleared his throat in hopes of signalling his presence. A dozen worst-case scenarios crossed his mind, with at least eight of them involving either an escape or a double abduction. Heart beating rapidly, Paul entered the living room with a growing lump in his throat that immediately vanished when he caught sight of Rey’s sleeping figure sprawled over the couch, her hands and nose buried in his dog’s fur—as for Como, he was very much asleep too.

Along with relief, a wave of affection washed over him at the scene. Of course, getting attached was not part of the plan: Rey wasn’t from this world and obviously didn’t want anything to do with it. But right now, seeing her face relaxed from what he guessed had been a long nap was enough for Paul to feel like the six laws he was currently breaking were worth it. Carefully, he settled in the nearest armchair and turned on the TV at the lowest volume. Disturbing Rey’s sleep was the last thing he wanted, but so was the perspective of missing out on the one and only good TV show he liked.

An episode and a half later, a light jingling echoed in the room, followed by the sound of Como jumping off the couch. Slightly drowsy, Paul looked up to see Rey sitting up among the many pillows she’d fallen asleep on, a confused look in her eyes as they met his. “How long did I…?”

“At least an hour,” Paul replied calmly. “How was Como?”

The hint of a smile appeared on her lips, accompanied by a brief shrug. “Not that mean,” she admitted as the dog rested his head on his owner’s lap. “He’s soft.”

A brief silence fell between them, which Paul vainly filled with vague nods. “So… no problem?” he asked after a moment.

Given her obvious discomfort, Rey seemed to catch the unspoken meaning of his question. With another shrug, she glanced at the door Paul had locked Como behind a few hours ago, then back to her hands, which she was now fidgeting with. 

“No problem,” she murmured, “I was just feeling a bit lonely.”

“Oh.”

There it was again: the guilt he’d felt that morning. An uncomfortable silence wrapped the room, only broken by the sound of Como’s tail hitting Paul’s legs every two seconds and the dialogue coming from the show he hadn’t bothered to turn off—or more accurately, had forgotten about. Rey, on the other hand, seemed to notice it and gave the TV a frown. “What’s that?”

Of the numerous times she’d asked that, this one was probably the trickiest. “Uh, a show,” Paul said, then immediately corrected himself as he remembered their conversation from the night before. “Like a…  _ holo _ , right?”

Rey raised her eyebrows as a response, an amused chuckle leaving her mouth as she gave him a nod. “Yes, exactly.” The hint of a smile crossed her lips, surprised yet pleased. Without breaking the eye contact they’d established, she straightened up on the couch and briefly pointed at the screen. “What’s it about?”

“A… An alien.” A small smile appeared on Paul’s lips too as he realized the irony of the situation. “An alien who spends his time here, on Earth, and saves humans from other aliens.”

Quite unexpectedly, Rey let out a light chuckle and gave him a frown. “Is that what you think I’m here for?”

She seemed more comfortable than she’d been in the last two days. Her features were softer, her brows relaxed, and Paul just noticed the amount of freckles scattered over her nose and cheekbones: small brown dots subtly tinting her skin just enough to make her face look like the rough outline of a sky map. She looked just as young as she seemed mature, slowly dropping her guard while still maintaining a safe distance between him and herself—physical  _ and _ emotional, if her sudden desire to talk was any indication.

“No,” Paul hastened to reply with a shake of his head. “No, but I actually have a theory about that.”

At that, Rey’s eyes widened and all trace of fatigue left her face. Silently, she urged him to continue, pulling her legs against her chest in one soft movement.

“So… there’s this thing that isn’t scientifically proven called  _ hyperspace _ ,” Paul began, cautiously choosing his words.

“Yeah, we have that.”

“You—”

Rey confirmed his unspoken question with another nod, vaguely gesturing at him to continue. 

“Alright,” he breathed out with a few incredulous blinks. “So, hyperspace is a space made of three dimensions. It makes you jump from one point to another, right?” After a silent confirmation that only increased his excitement, Paul took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “I have no doubt you know how to use it, but again, theory dictates that even just the tiniest miscalculation could drift you away from your initial trajectory or be fatal. My guess is… you’re lucky to still be alive.”

For the third time since he’d come home, Paul felt the weight of a silence slowly engulfing them for five long, heavy seconds. Staring at an invisible point on the ground, Rey took a deep breath and gritted her teeth, the words barely crossing her mouth with the weight of her noticeable doubts. “Is there a way back?”

“I’m sure there is,” Paul said in a low voice. “I’ll work on it, I promise.”

A weak smile curled the corners of her lips at his words, accompanied by a small voice when she spoke again. “Can we watch the holo, please?”

In the blink of an eye, the changes Paul thought he’d seen on her face vanished, tightening the lump that’d started to settle in his throat again. Her smile only seemed to hide the disappointment her eyes couldn’t; yet Paul didn’t have the heart to turn down her request. Instead, he gave her a soft smile and a nod as his fingers fumbled with the remote’s buttons until the volume was high enough for both of them to hear.

And so began the first of a series of sleepless nights.

 

*

 

In the space of a few days, Rey found herself feeling a little less scared every time Paul left for work, and a little safer every time he came back home. She even caught herself smiling at him from time to time, be it when the time to say goodnight came or whenever something seemed to amaze him. It wasn’t even that difficult: Paul would watch her remotely lift a spoon for an hour if Rey wasn’t so eager to keep watching the holos he’d shown her. Como’s company was a great help against loneliness during the day, but the Doctor and his companions appeared to be rather good at keeping her entertained until Paul’s return.

She’d been quick to admit that Paul was indeed not trying to hurt or trap her, but rather willing to risk his job and freedom to help her. Despite his initial warnings that the possibility of a pilot on the run hadn’t been dismissed, Paul had agreed to take Rey back to Waffle House the night she asked him for OJ, as well as the night after and the one after that.

Of course, kindness, fictional adventures, and waffles were not going to tell Rey how she was supposed to make it back to  _ her _ galaxy, but any distraction was currently welcome. Her chances of ever seeing her friends again were diminishing a little more with every passing day, waking her up with a mixture of guilt and helplessness that only added to the worries seizing her at night. Nothing had changed, really. She was still the little girl from Jakku waiting for someone and struggling to fall asleep; only this time, she was the one who’d abandoned the ones she loved.

_ The ones she loved. _

There hadn’t been a day where she hadn’t wondered if Finn had woken up or if Chewie had made it in time to join the rest of the Resistance. She’d thought about Leia, too; how disappointed she must’ve been about Rey’s sudden disappearance and her brother’s continued absence. Other names and faces kept coming back and forth, all shadowed by the memory of Ben’s unconscious body lying among the ashes of the throne room.

Not thinking about him proved to be harder than she’d imagined, even more when the man she was currently living with was his spitting image. There were differences, of course, but just as many similarities, starting with those dark brown eyes she could feel staring at her every time she instinctively used the Force or talked about something from her world. Tonight was no exception: wrapped up in a ridiculous apron, Paul was giving her a suspicious look as he handed her the kitchen appliance she’d asked for, his frown barely hiding his curiosity.

“How do you know what to do?”

“I grew up dismantling and fixing things,” Rey said with a shrug. As soon as her fingers closed around the handle of whatever tool he’d given her, she narrowed her eyes and proceeded to slip it inside one of the broken halves of the lightsaber she’d brought to the kitchen.

For the first time since she’d met Paul, the evening hadn’t been spent in Waffle House—first because of the torrential weather, but also because according to Paul, they wouldn’t last another week financially speaking if they kept going out every night. Rey knew way too much about the importance of credits and rations to protest, and instead chose to focus on the weapon she hadn’t dared touch yet while her host busied himself around the room, chopping and tossing various ingredients into a large bowl she couldn’t see into.

She hadn’t really been in this room until now. Paul usually left a water bottle in the living room in the morning, and she’d forgotten to eat a couple times over the past few days. Slightly distracted by the savory scent of bacon starting to fill the air, she looked up from her task and risked a glance at the bowl Paul was now emptying into a strange-looking machine. 

“What are we eating tonight?”

His lips curled into a small smile at her question, brief but proud. 

“Waffles,” Paul replied as he closed the machine. “It probably won’t be as good as the ones you like, but it might be the only thing I can cook without a risk of burning the entire building down.”

It was probably the fourth time he’d warned her of his poor cooking abilities, to which Rey replied with another shake of her head. For someone who’d spent years relying on dry food and limited access to water, anything that wasn’t bread or roots was a feast in itself, and this world seemed rather plentiful in resources. Besides, he wasn’t such a bad cook; the toast she’d had for breakfast today had been absolutely perfect.

“Wine?”

Only now realizing she’d been staring at him for a moment, Rey cleared her throat and instinctively nodded at his question. It was only as she took a first sip of the red beverage that she realized her habit of never refusing any kind of edible products was definitely not her best instinct—a theory that was later confirmed when, after her third glass, she abandoned the couch they’d settled in on to sit on the floor under the eyes of a very confused Paul. 

“Where are you going?”

“With Como,” Rey replied with a pout. “He’s all alone down there.” As if to emphasize her statement, she wrapped an arm around the dog, who barely noticed her, as he was sound asleep on the carpet.

A soft chuckle echoed behind her, followed by Paul’s amused voice. “He’s okay, he’s used to it.”

“Doesn’t mean he likes it.”

The words left a sour taste on her lips, silencing her for a few seconds. Maybe it was just the wine she’d been drinking, but her mouth suddenly felt insanely dry, a lump settling in her throat with each heartbeat she felt in her chest. Somewhere behind her, the couch’s springs squeaked and Paul’s voice rose again, soft and slightly worried. “Rey? You okay?”

“Yes,” Rey murmured. “Yes, I am.”

The memories that usually didn’t make it to her mind until she was alone in her room suddenly blurred her vision. Way too many cold nights spent alone in the middle of nowhere, with hope for her only companion. A forest, then an island. A fire, two hands reaching out for the other, a red room; and then _this_ _voice_ begging her to come and join him. A whispered _“please,”_ with a single hand waiting to be taken, only adding weight to the growing lump in her throat.

“You’re shaking.”

This voice, again; except it didn’t belong to the right person. Something in it was missing; a tone, maybe, or an audible smirk she’d liked to imagine lately in her dreams. Unable to speak, Rey pulled her legs to her chest and shrugged. Not even a second later, Paul joined her on the carpet and carefully took her glass from her hands.

“You’ve had too much wine,” he explained patiently while throwing a blanket over them both. “First time drinking?”

Not really; but Rey nodded anyway. Once, twice—her head fell on Paul’s shoulder, lulled by the voices emanating from the holo and the dizziness blurring her vision, and soon enough, her breathing slowed down to a steadier pace until her eyes agreed to close and give her some rest.

It was the sensation of Como’s nose against her forehead that pulled her away from her dozy state, followed by the uncomfortable sensation of not knowing where she was. An hour had passed, maybe two: the holo had turned off by itself, as well as the automatic lights of the room. The hint of a headache was rearing its head, accompanied by the irritating sensation of having been turned upside down in her sleep—something she realized might’ve actually happened, given that she couldn’t find the blanket Paul had lent her earlier. Clumsily, she groped for it, only to find a hand that was definitely not hers lying at her side, inches away from her hips.

It shouldn’t have felt familiar, yet Rey found herself staring at this hand. Even though the memories weren’t as vivid as earlier, pictures of the very same hand lightened by a fire rushed to her mind; and before she could stop herself, the tips of her fingers were touching Paul’s. Just the barest of touches. Just enough to make her stomach twist and her chest ache at the realization that his other arm was wrapped around her waist. For someone who’d promised herself not to get attached, she was failing completely.

Was that how it would’ve felt with  _ him _ ? She’d never been so close to Ben, but from what she’d seen, he was at least twice as big as she was. His arms could’ve crushed her in the blink of an eye, and his hands could have covered her entire waist with frustrating ease. He was rather built, too; but if what she felt under the shirt separating her cheek from Paul’s chest was any indication, he didn’t have anything to envy Ben in that respect.

As if he’d been reading her mind, Paul emitted a muffled sigh and shifted under her with a yawn that pulled Rey out of her thoughts. Suddenly self-conscious about the position they’d been sleeping in, she pulled away rather clumsily and watched her host wake up with the same questions she’d had earlier visible in his eyes: Why? When? An embarrassed “ _ Oh! _ ” followed when his eyes landed on his arms and where they were currently placed. Beet-red, he loosened his grip around Rey and muttered a few apologies that she dismissed with an embarrassed smile she couldn’t quite explain, or rather didn’t want to.

“I’ll just… I should go to bed,” she murmured as they both stood up.

“Yeah, me too.” Seemingly determined to avoid her eyes, Paul gave her the blanket that had somehow been stolen by Como and smiled at the carpet. Even behind his glasses, the blush tinting his cheeks was rather noticeable. “Goodnight.”

Aside from the few glasses of wine and unexpected nap, this wasn’t unlike every other night; still, Rey couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed at the single word that filled the room—a feeling that only increased when she, too, looked away as she repeated, “Goodnight.”

She didn’t even know what she’d been expecting, really. He’d been spending his entire evening with her, any update on her situation would have to wait until his next day of work. Because there  _ would _ be an update, eventually—at least that was what she needed to believe every night, so the dreams wouldn’t be too hard to handle. Just as she reached her door, a voice that sent a trail of shivers down her spine echoed in Rey’s ear, causing her to stop any movement as she recognized her name in Paul’s mouth.

“Rey, can I… Can I kiss you?”

She hated how much her heart was beating right now; but more specifically, she hated the way her entire body seemed to be flooded with relief as she processed the question. Biting her lips, she tried not to focus on how much Paul looked like Ben or on how much it felt wrong to nod and say the timid “ _ yes _ ” that crossed her lips in a murmur.

Even more wrong was the way her heart stopped the second Paul’s lips curled into a smile and started again as they softly brushed hers. Slowly but surely, Rey relaxed under his touch and aligned her mouth with his, until she felt nothing but safety and relief. The ship, her lightsaber, the galaxy—all those things could wait. Kriff, she didn't even want to think about it right now; not when she was being given her first kiss, which she found herself holding on to lest Paul would change his mind.

He didn’t, though: carefully, his hand found Rey’s hips and rested there with the usual kindness she’d grown used to in the past few days, only increasing the raging fire inside her chest. With each passing second, the flames tickled her insides with a little more spirit; and with each tickle, Rey felt her breathing hasten. No memories came to her mind, now only blurred with the feelings and sensations her body responded to. Guided by her instincts, she grabbed Paul’s shirt and pulled him a little closer, deepening the kiss with a fierce devotion.

“Hold on— hold on.”

His sudden hesitation puzzled her. Just seconds ago, he’d been the one to ask for permission to kiss her, and now he was pulling back, his hands still resting on her hips but his body leaning ever so slightly away from hers as he looked into her eyes through those stupidly endearing glasses of his. Still, confusion flooded through her, and she adjusted her grip on his shirt as she wondered just what the hell she’d done wrong. “Is everything…?”

He nodded, then reached up a hand to caress her cheek, and she shuddered at the intimate gesture. No one had ever touched her like that. No one had ever been so gentle, so kind, so tentative—except for one man many, many light years away. She’d scarcely ever looked someone in the eyes and known that they cared for her, that they genuinely wanted to be a part of her life and wanted her to be a part of theirs, or just enjoyed her company. She’d never seen that before, and it both frightened and excited her. 

“Rey, I don’t want to take this any further without doing it the right way,” he explained, suddenly seeming nervous as he stood in front of her, his hand never leaving her cheek. Had his palm always been so warm? “I… listen, there’s a thing people do here, when they… when they  _ like _ each other.”

“As friends?”

“No.” He laughed at this, then he brushed a strand of her hair back behind her ear and leaned forward so that his forehead was touching hers as he struggled both audibly and visibly to find the words to say next. “I mean when they like each other enough… to do what we just did. Rey… I want to take you somewhere… somewhere nice.”

He paused then, as if waiting for her reaction, but she only became more confused. “Like Waffle House or Target?”

Another soft laugh escaped him, then he pulled back. “No, um… god, why can’t I do this?” He took in a deep breath, then he looked at her again. “Somewhere we maybe dress a little more nicely than we usually do, somewhere with a view. I want…” A realization seemed to dawn on him then. “Rey, if you could see anything of my world, what would you want to see?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“Because before we take this any further than we have… I want to do this properly, I want to take you on a date first, I just don’t know where to go.”

Rey blinked at him again, then she paused, pressing a hand on his chest. “Paul, are you intending to court me?”

A blush spread widely on his cheeks, then he looked down to the ground. “Not quite, but… it’s close, just without the intent of… um, marriage.”

“Oh,” she breathed, relieved and maybe the barest hint disappointed, then she chuckled nervously, trying to muster up ideas for what she’d want to see while she spent her time on this world… being courted by the man who looked identical to Ben Solo. It felt like ages went by as she struggled to conjure an idea for where she wanted the sweet, loving man in front of her to take them, but eventually, she found it. “I want to see the galaxy. This galaxy… like they do on your holo in their little box.”

Paul looked surprised, his brow furrowing as a puzzled expression took over his face, then a smile parted his lips again, and he nodded. 

“I can do that,” he replied, then he reached up, and took her hands in his, holding them gingerly near his lips so that his breath ghosted over her fingers with the next words he spoke. “Tomorrow night after dinner… I’m showing you my galaxy,” he said, then he gently kissed her hands, pressing one tiny, close mouthed kiss to each one. 

Rey shivered at the contact, then as he set her hands down — but didn’t let go of them — she took in a deep breath. 

“So… dressing nice…” She looked at the suit he was still wearing, laughing nervously as she examined the two undone top buttons, which exposed just the tiniest hints of his bare chest. “Does that mean dress like you?”

“Um, kinda,” he replied sheepishly, and  _ kriff,  _ the blush creeping up his cheeks was adorable. “Just… wear whatever feels comfortable. You’ll look great no matter what. You’re… you’re beautiful.”

She felt her heart skip a beat in her chest at that. In all her life, she’d never really been given compliments. Sure, she’d been hit on a few times at Niima outpost, but a genuine compliment from someone who actually cared about her? Rey hadn’t ever experienced something like that. “I… thank you,” she breathed, squeezing his hand gently as she tried to fight back the tears hearing that brought to her eyes. “I…”

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice so full of concern it nearly made her burst into tears again. “Your eyes are a little misty.”

Rey laughed involuntarily. “No one’s ever…” She paused, swallowing back the lump in her throat as Paul stared at her with those soulful, deep eyes. “No one’s ever told me that before…”

At this, it was his eyes that looked misty, but he said nothing; opting instead to lean down, and press the world’s sweetest, gentlest kiss to her lips. It was close-mouthed and short, but it lingered, it surrounded her completely, and made her forget about the world around them — about the galaxy and the war an infinite amount of light years away, or maybe even another dimension — as his warm lips pressed against hers. 

When he pulled away, he ran his thumb over the back of hers, and smiled. “Then I’ll remind you everyday while you’re here.”

More shivers ran down her spine at those words.  _ Shit,  _ Paul was the sweetest man she’d ever met. When she was around him, she was able to forget about everything troubling her for a little while, and her whole world felt like it was at peace. It was a feeling she’d only ever come close to with one other person, but since she didn’t know if or when she’d see him again… she allowed herself to enjoy the feeling his company brought her. 

Rey smiled at him as he leaned forward to press a tiny kiss to her forehead, and she closed her eyes as he made contact, then he pulled away, and gave her a nod. “The second I get home from work tomorrow… Be ready.”

“I will,” she replied with a nod, then she pulled back, and feeling bold, she let go of his hands to take the lapels of his blazer in her own. “Can you… can you kiss me again before I go?”

Paul laughed, resting his hands over hers as he leaned down, then he pressed one last, gentle kiss to her lips, this one a little more intense than the last as he obliged her request.  _ Hell _ , she could get used to kissing him. She really could. He was always so kind with everything he did, and his generosity showed prominently in the way he kissed, but she could tell he was holding back with every single kiss he gave her. It was evidently some way of attempting to respect her boundaries, but the more they kissed, the more she wished he’d stop and just— 

_ Where the hell had  _ that  _ thought come from? _

She hummed softly into the kiss from the sudden heat that flushed through her at the sudden turn in her train of thought. It had been just a tiny flash, but that brief vision of him pinning her to the wall and removing her top had sent the room’s temperature rising. 

The second he heard the sound, though, Paul pulled away, though he was smiling as he backed away from her, then he finally released her hands. “Tomorrow,” he told her. “I promise.”

Rey’s chest was heaving as he stepped back, then she swallowed nervously. “Right, um… sorry, I just…”

“I know, I feel it, too,” he said, and she couldn’t help the sharp gasp that she took in as those words registered in her brain. A memory of another time, another place filled her senses. Another pair of eyes that were identical to his stared into hers, the curiosity held within them intriguing and a bit terrifying all the same, but that had been Ben. That had been the man she’d left behind on the  _ Supremacy _ . 

The sound of Como snoring softly in his sleep somewhere behind Paul brought Rey back to reality. She shuddered visibly as she stepped back into her bedroom, pushing the door open as she gave him a subtle smile. “Good night, then.”

“Good night, Rey,” he replied, then he looked almost as if he were about to kiss her again, but changed his mind at the last second. Disappointment crept up within her as she watched him walk back across the living room toward his own bedroom, and her breath caught in her chest as the door closed. 

A shuddering breath escaped her as she retreated back into her own room, and shut the door only to turn and lean against it, her head falling into her hands as she processed what had just happened. The smile remained firm on her face as she recalled the way it had felt when their lips had come together for the first time. That had been her first kiss. That had been the first time anyone had ever held her like that, had ever kissed her head, or her hands, or any part of her that she could remember. 

She’d grown up hearing stories on occasion from other scavengers of what such a thing was like, but none of them had warned her about how her head would spin. None of them had ever told her just how intense it could get so quickly. She’d never been warned about the ache it would create within her; the desire for  _ more _ that she wasn’t sure how she’d fulfill. 

But above all that she’d never been told that anyone could look at her like that. No one had ever mentioned how someone’s eyes could darken but be soft all the same. No one had ever said a damn thing about how beautiful those looks were. She’d gotten the tiniest glimpse of such stares those last few hours she’d spent with Ben, but until she got back to her galaxy…until he was no longer the Supreme Leader, she couldn’t get him to do it again. For now, she was content with the way Paul’s eyes looked at her. For now, he was perfect. 

Slowly, she pushed herself away from the door, then she ran a hand through her hair as she flopped down onto the bed and giggled as she bounced off of the mattress. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel his lips on hers, and she found she quite liked the feeling. As she buried herself beneath the borrowed sheets, she could feel her eyes drifting shut, the image of her first kiss burning brightly behind her eyelids as she slowly began to fall into sleep. 

In spite of how tired her body was, her restless mind kept her up for nearly another hour, tossing and turning with thoughts of the kiss she’d just received. Normally she didn’t spend time dwelling on anyone else, but… with what had just happened, that had been a major life event, and she hadn’t experienced something so positive or good in so long, she’d almost forgotten what it felt like. 

Now that she remembered, she was able to eventually fall into a nightmareless sleep. Of course, nightmareless didn’t mean dreamless, and instead of her usual night terrors, she had multiple back-to-back dreams about the man sleeping in the room nearby. Some of them involved that weirdly tempting wall of his and one of them pinning the other to it while they kissed. Other dreams just involved lying side by side and holding his hand while they stared at the stars. 

In one dream, Paul became Ben, and they were lying on the floor of the throne room. He was still unconscious, and her heart broke anew to see him like that, but she crawled over to him nonetheless, and rested a hand on his face, staring at him in his sleep. 

“I’ll come back for you,” she promised him, then she removed her hand as that dream began to fade. “As soon as I can.”

In the next, she was strolling through Paul’s city alone—he’d called it Atlanta, if memory served—and the rain was pouring down, soaking her through to the bone as she looked up to the sky. As she watched, a ship streamed across the sky, leaving a blue trail in its wake as it went. It struck her quickly that this was her ship, and she watched it pass over the tall skyscrapers to the east, her heart racing as it fell down and down and didn’t decrease in speed. Surely the pilot would die on impact; but she’d been the pilot, and she was still standing there, wasn’t she?

The moment that ship made contact with the ground, Rey woke up in a cold sweat in her bed, gasping for air as she grasped at the sheets. Reality slowly filtered back in, and she sighed as her palm came up her forehead, groaning as she recovered from her dream. It had all felt so real, yet it wasn’t… 

With a sigh, she collapsed back onto the mattress, sparing the window on the left side of the room a glance as she settled into a comfortable sleeping position. The first gray lights of dawn were making their way through the clouds. Just like it had been in her dream, it was raining, and while that did strike a pinch of fear in her heart, she was almost too tired to notice. All she knew was now it was morning. Now it was the day that Paul was going to show her his galaxy, and finally allow them to deepen their kiss the way they both clearly wanted to. 

Her heart raced again at the thought as she closed her eyes, and she smiled at the thought of kissing him again as she allowed herself to sink back into sleep, more eager than ever for what was to come. Having something to look forward to wasn’t something Rey was used to, but as anticipation flooded her veins, she thought maybe, just maybe, she could get used to the feeling. 


	4. The Planetarium

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We may have enjoyed writing this chapter. This may be a bit long.  
> Let's take a look at that telescope, guys.

Paul pressed the button marked ‘liquefy’ and jolted as the blender roared to life, despite the fact that he used the thing practically every morning and was accustomed to how loud it was. He watched the contents whirl and meld and change color until everything was a fresh, pleasant shade of green, then switched it off and poured it out between two glasses. Last night’s waffles had been a rousing success, judging by how the night had gone after them, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to press his luck at six-thirty in the morning when he had so much on his mind.

Get through the day at work. Try not to think too much about his date with Rey tonight. Try not to think too much about how good it felt to kiss her last night. Try not to think too much about whether his behavior was ethically questionable to an absurd degree.

Rey was a young woman displaced from her home, from her  _ galaxy _ (or universe?—even with talks of hyperspace, he had not ruled out some multiverse antics at play here . . . and why the hell not, after everything he’d seen?). She had been dependent on him for safety and discretion for the last week. Now he’d given in to some fleeting, insane impulse and made a move on her, and she’d  _ seemed _ enthusiastic. Like she might even have been waiting for it. 

But were his actions totally out of line? He couldn’t help the niggling worry that he was taking advantage of her situation. That he was in a position of power, and she might worry he would stop his efforts to aid her if she turned him down.

Yet that was a disservice to Rey. He knew enough of her by now to be certain she wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want to and was more than capable of protecting her own autonomy. It was his apartment she now called home, but she was also armed and had  _ powers _ —honestly if he thought about it, he had far more reason to be a little afraid of her. If she was unhappy here, if she wanted to leave and strike out on her own, she could have done so, and he would have no real way to prevent it. He would worry, but he would let her.

And now it sounded like he was trying to rationalize this far too much.

Paul cleared his throat and, still uneasy with the state of his conscience, stepped away from the kitchen counter with the two glasses and joined Rey at the table. He nudged one toward her and watched her eye the contents with interest before having a taste.

“I was expecting this to taste like one of the protein mixes I had on the  _ Falcon _ ,” she said the instant she swallowed. “It’s much better. Actually tasty, for one thing.”

He’d been noticing all morning (or at least since he’d come out here fifteen minutes ago and found her rifling her way through the kitchen cabinets and inspecting the stove) the way she regarded him with a mix of the slow trust he’d become accustomed to and something newer. The fondness was still there, but it was hungry, too, and not for breakfast. She was looking at him that way now, or had been until she saw him watching her and seemed to become almost circumspect.

Rey took a second sip and smacked her lips together with satisfaction. He pointedly avoided staring too long at them, lest he start thinking about how he’d almost prefer to stay here with her all day and pick up where they left off last night. If he pushed back from the table a bit, she would fit perfectly in his lap. She could straddle his hips with her back pressed to the table’s edge and wrap her arms behind his neck while he kissed her lips, her throat, her— 

“Glad you like it,” he said, voice strained as he coughed down some of his smoothie. “There is protein powder in it, actually. Though the bananas and yogurt and avocado probably cover it up.”

“Ah.” She nodded and gulped some more down. Christ, he should have made extra, shouldn’t he? “Bananas are the long yellow ones, right?”

“Yep.” Paul checked the clock on the microwave to distract himself from the way her T-shirt hung loose around her neck and revealed her slender shoulder. He was glad he hadn’t showered yet. Usually he was a hot shower kind of guy, but at this rate he was going to need to make it a cold one. “Hey, what’s the  _ Falcon _ ?” 

Rey’s eyes went wide, as if she’d just realized she had said something she shouldn’t, though he couldn’t see why. Anything she told him of her life, at least so far, had seemed quite harmless and only served to deepen his regard for her and convince him further that she was a fascinating individual. Yet for the first time since he’d slid the glass over to her, she released it and folded her hands in her lap, out of sight. He hadn’t seen her look so guarded and uncertain in days.

_ Shit _ .

She recovered with a slight shake of her head, her eyes focused on the stack of napkins at the center of the table. “It’s a ship I piloted for a while. The  _ Millennium Falcon _ ,” she said. “Not the one I came here in, obviously. Actually, it’s sort of a heap of junk. The fact it can get off the ground at all is . . .” She laughed to herself, a short, quiet, almost wistful sound. “Amazing. But . . . it’s very important to me and to the people I left behind, in the war. It means a lot. I hope I see it again.”

“What does it look like?” Paul asked before he could stop himself from prying into something that might upset her. Before he could let his mind settle on the fact that Rey seeing the  _ Falcon  _ again also meant he would never see  _ her  _ again.   


“Um.” Rey pressed her lips together, eyeing him seriously as she thought. “Well, it’s a light freighter. A YT-1300 Corellian—” She must have noticed the blank look he was giving her, because she rolled her eyes and laughed again. “Kriff, you have no idea what that means. It’s a cargo ship. For . . . er. All right, actually . . .”

She grabbed a napkin and a stray pen from the table and, to his surprise, began to sketch. As she drew, Paul watched silently and caught the shifts in her expression, the way she was so focused on her task and yet clearly lost in remembering, too. When she finished a minute or so later, she held up her work for him to see: a flat, roundish ship with a vaguely trapezoidal section toward the front and an arm-like bit to one side that branched off oddly. She’d even drawn a stick figure next to it for scale, though the figure looked inexplicably like a yeti.

“Your ship looks like a hamburger,” he said after a few moments' evaluation, mouth quirked. He squinted and looked at it again. She was a good artist, actually, but it was still an odd look for a ship. “Or a flounder.” 

“Not sure what those are, but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Gotta say I was expecting it to look like . . . you know. A falcon.”

Rey’s eyes crinkled as her cheeks dimpled with a smile. This was what tonight might be like, he realized. It could be this easy and natural. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time. 

He swallowed the last of his smoothie and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “And it’s tragic to me that you don’t know what a burger is. We’ll have to rectify that. They’re maybe the best food Earth has to offer.”

“Tonight,” she said with certainty. “On the date. Dinner’s part of that, right?”

Paul chuckled. “Yeah, maybe. Or else soon. They aren’t hard to come by.”

“What about a flounder?” She lifted her eyebrows and traced her thumb absently around the rim of her empty glass, and he followed its progress and entertained a fleeting thought about what it would feel like to have her tracing his skin in the same way. 

“Ah . . . less enticing than burgers by a long shot.” 

He got up to clear the table, vaguely aware as he did so of the way she also stood and moved to rinse the blender. They had a routine, somehow, already. In the back of his mind, he knew that when he arrived home from work later (well, most days, not tonight), she would probably either be watching holos— _ television, Jesus _ —or exercising. She did these odd drills sometimes, stretches and sequences of movements that reminded him a bit of sword-fighting, except her hand was always empty. He hadn’t yet asked her what they were for, though he assumed it was to do with that broken weapon she was intent on fixing. 

It always reminded him, more than anything, of where she had come from. Someplace people fought every day. Someplace she’d left peril behind. Someplace she longed to return to despite all that.

He stole a look at her as she stood aside to let him wash their glasses and put them in the dishwasher. She was watching him keenly, and something told him he knew exactly why—and that was great, because he’d wanted to kiss her all morning but wasn’t sure how she would take it, even after her eagerness only hours before. After all, he’d been the one to stop things from progressing.

Paul tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear, and the way she leaned right into even that practically inconsequential contact made his heart skip. He ducked his head enough to brush his lips against her forehead. She could turn away if she wanted, and he would stop. But then she tipped her head back, turning her face to his, so he kissed her lips as well. A short, tender peck at first, which she left him no option but to deepen when she caught her hand in his hair and snaked her other arm around his waist. A moment later her fingers were sneaking under the back of his shirt and toying with the waistband of his sweats.

He was pretty sure it only lasted a few seconds, but his pulse was racing anyway when Rey dipped her chin and huffed a laugh through her parted lips. 

“Sorry,” she murmured, though her nails had not ceased sweeping over his skin.

“Why?”

“You have work.”

He gave an unattractive snort and drew his hands gently down her back, holding her close and enjoying how it felt to follow the lines of her body with his palms. 

“Yeah, true. Glad one of us remembers.” He cleared his throat and pressed another quick kiss to the top of her head before forcing himself to let go and put some distance between their bodies. If this went on too much longer he might have some embarrassing explaining to do. “I’m gonna go grab a shower and get ready. Unless you need it first?”

Rey looked at him in silence for a few moments, and he began to wonder if she was about to ask if she could join him. He was not sure he would deny the request if she did. But she shrugged and shuffled out of the kitchen. “No, I can wait. It’s not like I’ve got anywhere to be.”

“Sure you do.”

“You’re right.” For the first time he didn’t think she meant her own galaxy. “I’m really looking forward to it, you know.”

He saw her smile to herself as they parted in the living room and she headed toward the front door, already beckoning Como with a low, trilling whistle, her arm outstretched to take the leash from the wall. She’d been taking him on walks up the block and back the last couple mornings. She liked the trees, she’d said, and the fresh air and the way Como seemed to delight in the chance to stretch his legs. Paul waited for the sound of the front door closing before he started the shower. 

As he stepped under the water—not cold after all, but cooler than usual—he was able to calm his racing thoughts enough to focus on the only thing that seemed important: Rey’s comfort and happiness for as long as she was here. Tonight would be a part of that. But first he had to survive another work day.

 

-

 

Rey sank down until the water was just beneath her nose and lifted one foot up to rest it on the edge of the tub. She’d never taken a bath before. It was one of those things she’d heard of from holodramas and that had always seemed impossible. Filling a basin with water and just  _ sitting _ in it was supposedly relaxing, but it sounded ridiculous. Until today. She’d had the urge after getting back from Como’s walk and catching Paul on his way out the door (he hadn’t kissed her again, but she could tell he’d wanted to). She had come in just to wash her face and brush her teeth, but the air had still been damp and smelled faintly of his shower gel. It gave her the bizarre notion that she wanted to soak it all in.

So she'd filled the tub and dumped in a capful of the stuff, and now she was up to her chin in warm water and bubbles and wondering what the hell people did to pass the time once they got in. The whole room was thick with the scent of—of—  Well she wasn’t sure what it was, but it reminded her very much of the forest on Takodana. It smelled  _ green _ , if a color could also be a smell. She was able to enjoy that thought, that sensation, for a few moments before it also made her think of Ben.

That was the first place she had seen him in the flesh. Not a vision or a dream but a real man who she’d thought could only be a monster until everything had changed.

Rey squeezed her eyes shut, ducked her head under the water, and held her breath until she couldn’t anymore. When she surfaced, it was with a gasping gulp of air. That helped clear her head, if lightheadedness counted, but now she was surrounded by the smell again and thinking instead of the last hour or so.

She and Paul had eaten breakfast together a few mornings now, but this had been the first time he’d seemed like he was letting himself be at home with her. He hadn’t showered or changed or done any of the usual things he accomplished before she saw him in the morning. Instead it looked as if he’d rolled right out of bed and come out to investigate what she was up to (looking for more Pop Tarts)—he’d wandered in pushing his glasses up his nose, hair uncombed, wearing a pair of sweatpants and that T-shirt he had lent her the first night she’d slept here. Except on him it seemed much smaller. She’d been able to make out the barest outline of the shape of his chest and arms and the broadness of his shoulders, things she’d felt last night but never really seen because he was always wearing those too-large shirts and loose jackets. It should not have made her feel a squirm of desire, but it did _.  _ Then he’d shuffled past and put on a pot of caf and that was it.

Now, she couldn’t help replaying the image of him like that again. She let her eyes fall shut and tried to relax back into the water. Her head leaned to rest on the folded towel she’d draped over the edge. The bubbles tickled her jaw as she slid an arm beneath and let her hand rest on her thigh. As she had last night, she began to speculate what he must look like underneath the shirt and sweatpants and what his skin would feel like under her palms.

She threw a look at the half-open bathroom door and closed it the rest of the way with a wave of her hand, grateful as ever that the Force seemed to work the same even in this strange place. Yes, Paul was not home, but she didn’t want Como to come investigating if she made any noise. With a long sigh that dispelled her lingering guilt about doing this in Paul’s tub—because, fine, she was already  _ thinking about him _ —she closed her eyes and began to touch herself.

But as the first subtle shivers of pleasure started their slow spread and she tried to steer her thoughts back to Paul and possibilities, she was unable to get images of Ben out of her mind instead. She paused, her fingers poised at the apex of her thighs, then pressed them inside with a quiet gasp of relief.

_ They were in the lift on the  _ Supremacy.  _ She was looking up at him once again, as if she could will him to understand that she knew his conflict and that there was time for him to help make things right. He stared back just as he had that day, his face unreadable and fathomless but still so open to her, his dark resolve unnerving, his body so close, his lips parted to speak . . . _

_ Rey raised herself on her toes and stretched up to draw her arms around his neck and crush her lips to his. It wasn’t tender or romantic or easy, but it was real and raw. It felt right. The way his knees buckled and his body briefly tensed and swayed. The way he embraced her an instant later. The way he dragged her with him against the wall of the lift and clutched her to his chest until it felt as if there was no part of her that was not a part of him. _

Need throbbed inside her, a pang where her fingers stroked, something she couldn’t reach the way she usually could. Rey slowed her urgency and let her legs relax wider apart as she cupped a breast with her other hand. She needed to be gentler with herself. Maybe.

_ If the lift had been going anywhere, its progress was suspended only for them. She wasn’t sure when Ben had become the one to have her backed against the wall rather than the other way around, but she never wanted him to pull away. She wasn’t sure how their clothing had come to such a disarray either, discarded and pushed up and pulled open in haste, but she wanted less of that and more of him. All of him. Her hands were tangled in the hair at the back of his neck; his mouth was pressing hot, sucking kisses to her face, her throat, her chest.  _

Don’t go, _ he seemed to say with each touch. _

_ Don’t go. _

Rey let out a whine and pumped two fingers in and out, slowly at first and then with growing intensity, her feet struggling for purchase against the slippery white of the tub. Some water sloshed over the edge. Her other hand returned to stimulate her clit, and she was already so sensitive it almost sent her over right away.

_ They were joined in a way she hadn’t let herself imagine before; she couldn’t fathom that it could happen like this, so easily, so instantly. It was all a promise he hadn’t made and couldn’t keep. Was it? Was this all they would have? He breathed her name like the sweetest prayer, right into her ear. Her legs tightened around him, pulling him in, keeping him close, making him hers, hers, hers, please, please, please—  _

She let herself come, finally, and though it was just what she’d needed all morning, it felt somehow hollow anyway. It had been hard to wrangle even that fantasy; the sadness was too near the surface. As her pulse slowed and the lingering frisson of her climax became the faintest buzz in her extremities, Rey decided she’d had enough of the bath. 

And enough of this. Today only, she was not going to let herself think of home.

 

-

 

She passed the rest of the day as she was now accustomed to: watching some of the holonetflix (aside from the Doctor, she was enthralled with a series called  _ Planet Earth _ , amazed at the sheer variety of the world she’d found herself stranded on) and then, when she grew bored of that, trying to fix the split lightsaber. That didn’t count as thinking of home. It was just something that needed to be done. 

Once Paul had gotten wise to what she was attempting to do, he’d lent her his own toolkit, though he’d also assured her he was “not much of a handyman” and that he probably wouldn’t be much help besides that. Which was fine. He was curious, patient, and open-minded, but this wasn’t his to do. 

She wasn’t even sure it was possible with what he’d left her. Although spanners, screwdrivers, and all the rest were more useful than the mechanical whisk she’d tried last time, Rey was beginning to worry she might have met her match here. The lightsaber  _ looked _ straightforward, but she’d never tried to fix anything that was sort of alive in its own weird way, and the halved crystal didn’t seem like the sort of thing she could just patch with a clever trick. She could hear its broken voice, a faint buzz at the back of her head.

“Tell me how to fix you,” she said to it, running her thumb over one piece and then the other. The now-familiar sharpness of its uneven edges was the strangest comfort. “Please.”

It did not answer.

Still, the task focused her mind, and when she paused to stretch and yawn, her foot nudged against Como dozing beneath the table. She hadn’t even noticed him come into the kitchen. She looked at the watch on her wrist.

She swore under her breath. It was much later than she’d realized. Hours had passed since she got to work, and she wasn’t sure what she had to show for it. She hadn’t even stopped to eat anything. 

Paul would be home in about an hour. The sun was already beginning to set. She needed to start getting ready. Whatever that entailed. She cleaned up her improvised workstation and stowed the lightsaber and tools beneath the spare pillow on her bed, then started to rummage through the closet. All the clothing they’d purchased on her first day was arrayed fairly neatly, but there was only one thing she’d figured was appropriate for this date.

“Dress nice, dress nice,” she mumbled to herself, then huffed as her hand settled on a hanger near the end. She pulled the garment out.

She’d never had a reason to dress nicely in her life. So she wasn’t sure what had possessed her to add  _ this  _ to her pile of otherwise practical purchases: a knee-length dress, simple but pretty, thin straps at the shoulders, soft fabric. That day at the store, its rich, leaf-green color had drawn her eye and kept drawing her eye until she’d picked it up to look at it more closely and hadn’t put it down. It had reminded her of something a queen or politician might wear in old holodramas and newscasts, she supposed. Lucky thing, anyway.

She shed her tunic and leggings, changed into fresh underthings—the bloody bra clasped in the front this time, which was somehow more annoying than the one that clasped in the back and sorely made her wish she could just wear the breastband under everything—and slipped the dress on. At least that felt right. And it  _ looked _ right, too, in a way that surprised her. Paul had told her she was beautiful last night, which still jarred her, but right now, studying herself in this frivolous dress, she felt like she was. She didn’t have any makeup, so she fussed with her hair a while, considered buns, braids, a ponytail. In the end she ran a brush through it a few times and decided to leave it loose.

None of that had taken nearly as long as she’d expected. Suddenly nervous, Rey paced around a while, then retreated to the kitchen to make some tea and meditate. 

_ It’s not thinking of home. It will keep you strong and focused _ , she reminded herself.

She settled on the sofa with the cup of tea steaming beside her and her legs folded loosely on the soft cushions. After a few deep breaths she shut her eyes loosely and reached out with her feelings. The fact that she could sense the Force was ever encouraging. It was everywhere: coiling around a houseplant in the corner; puffing out with each panting breath Como gave as he trotted past to investigate some smell near the front door; singing softly in a breeze that rattled the window. 

In an instant her perception of it shifted inward, and she felt as if she was falling. She saw herself inside the escape pod, trembling as her adrenaline and heartache ebbed, pouring every ounce of concentration into guiding the unfamiliar vessel. She sent out a signal to Chewie on the  _ Falcon _ . They would intercept, jump to light speed, and hopefully not be too late to help whatever was left of the Resistance.

She never saw the  _ Falcon _ . Instead, her pod shook and bucked as if it had been snatched by a giant hand. It veered violently rightward, drawn toward the field of wreckage left behind by whatever had collided with the  _ Supremacy _ . She couldn’t believe the level of destruction—the massive flagship was split clean in two. Tracks of bright white and vibrant blue lingered in its wake; something wavered at the heart of it all, like the ghost of a hyperspace tunnel. 

_ Wormhole. Were those real? No, no, no . . . _

She was being pulled into it. She couldn’t draw the pod away, no matter how many things she tried. The pod shuddered again, emergency alarms began to blare, and this time Rey screamed as she felt the air around her begin to compress and wobble as the pod was sucked toward the wormhole with shocking, painful speed.

In Paul’s living room, Rey yelped and fell back into the couch cushions. Como dashed up to her, nudged his wet nose into her hand, and whuffed softly a few times until she absently began to scratch him behind the ears. 

“I think I just remembered how I got here,” she mumbled to him, burying both hands in the warm ruff of his neck until she felt her heartbeat slowing. She took a sip of tea and hissed as it scalded her tongue. She checked her watch. Soon. She just didn’t want to be alone any more.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait very long: Approximately twenty minutes later, the broad figure of her host crossed the doorway, laden with that big bag he grabbed every morning and something else that Rey couldn’t see.

“You’re early,” she commented as Paul joined her in the kitchen, where she was pouring a second cup of tea.

An incredulous smile plastered on his face, he shrugged and stopped next to her. “Not that much, I stopped by a shop. This is for you, by the way—”

Before Rey could ask what exactly was for her, her pulled a large, colorful thing from behind him. Plants—no,  _ flowers _ —of all sorts gathered in a bunch, their stems tied together with a big ribbon concealed behind Paul’s fingers. With the hint of a blush creeping on his cheeks, he extended his arm a little more, waiting for Rey to take the bouquet.

“They’re beautiful.” The words crossed her lips as a murmur as she focused on the petals before her eyes, each more colorful than the other. Carefully, she freed Paul of the flowers and gave herself a few more seconds to appreciate their scent skimming the edge her nose, eyes closed, a smile on her face.

“You are, too. Beautiful.”

Just as it had the night before, Rey’s heart dropped to her feet then jumped back into her chest. The look in his eyes was the same that had surprised her last night, and so was the sincerity in his voice. There was a confidence in his words, as if he couldn’t doubt what he said even for a second. It was all Rey needed to believe him, and she returned the smile he was giving her.

“Thanks.” The word came out in such a whisper Rey wondered if Paul heard it. But the second she looked up, she knew he had: this man couldn’t lie, and this smile he was barely containing said a lot.

“I should… I’ll be back, I need to get dressed,” Paul mumbled as he left the kitchen.

A blush reddened Rey’s cheeks as she noticed his eyes lingering on the thin straps of her dress, only serving as a reminder of how light this outfit was. She wouldn’t survive a day on Jakku with that thing: the fabric was too close to her body and her arms weren’t covered, not to mention her exposed legs and how the wind would show no mercy. This dress was definitely not practical, and yet Rey didn’t care at all. For the first time in her life, she felt beautiful.

There had been a few were times before when she’d wondered about her appearance: when she was starting to outgrow her clothes, or when the men of Niima Outpost started to call her curious names. She’d thought about it not that long ago, while preparing for her descent to the  _ Supremacy _ . And she’d thought about it later in the elevator, when Ben’s eyes had lingered on her one second too many, just enough for her to wonder if he’d noticed how she’d kept her hair down, just the way he’d seen her that night in the hut.

“Ready?”

Paul’s voice dragged her away from her memories as quickly as she’d fallen into them, and her heart missed a beat when she caught sight of his outfit.

It wasn’t that different from what he usually wore, yet not as light as what she’d been used to. No greyish jacket or colorful T-shirts: the shirt he’d chosen was a bright white, contrasting perfectly with the black of his pants and jacket. A quick and easy comparison caressed Rey’s mind, but she immediately swept it away in favor of a smile.

“Ready,” she confirmed with a nod.

To Como’s great disappointment, the two of them made their way to the door and left without him, Rey’s heart full of guilt when the dog locked eyes with her.

“He looks so sad,” she murmured as the car started.

A chuckle crossed Paul’s lips, emphasizing the dimples that hadn’t left his cheeks for the last ten minutes. “It’s just playacting. I bet he’ll be sound asleep when we come back.”

An amused smile followed his words—a smile Rey couldn’t help but return as she shrugged.“He’s probably feeling left behind.”

“I can’t believe I met someone who loves my dog as much as I do.” A short silence fell on the car, soon broken as Paul spoke again. “You two have come a long way.”

It was now Rey’s turn to chuckle as she remembered her first encounter with Como. “He was massive!” she said as an excuse.

“You should’ve seen him when he was a baby,” Paul retorted. “He was so small I could put him in the glove compartment.

Anticipating Rey’s inevitable question—what the hell was a glove compartment?—he pointed at what looked like a small, integrated safe that was certainly not large enough to even fit the dog’s head. Curious, Rey pulled the handle to check inside. She was only slightly disappointed to see that this was definitely not a literal gloves storage case, but smiled anyway at the idea of a smaller, younger Como asleep in there.

“How did you get him?” she asked as the car left the alley.

Something she couldn’t exactly put her finger on changed in Paul’s eyes; something between pride and affection that only increased his smile and rendered him silent for a few seconds before he spoke again, eyes on the road.

“I was camping, three years ago. I was alone in this huge forest, and he appeared out of nowhere, whining. He just looked… weak, and terrified.” His hands tightened around the wheel for a brief second, but enough for Rey to notice. “I didn’t even have to chase him, he stayed with me the entire night. I was going to take him to a shelter the day after—well, I did. But right when they were taking him away, I changed my mind.”

A question crossed Rey’s mind, then her lips; a question she probably knew the answer to. She asked it anyway, hoping she was wrong. “What’s a shelter?”

“Oh, that’s…” The way Paul’s eye twitched made something tighten in Rey’s stomach. “That’s the place animals go when they’re lost or when their owners don’t want them anymore.”

_ Spot on. _ For a reason she definitely wanted to keep ignoring, Rey felt like her heart had suddenly doubled in weight. Some things never changed; even on a planet that possessed such amazing things as waffles.

“I’m glad you chose to keep him,” she murmured.

“Sometimes I feel like he’s the one who chose to keep me.”

It was almost impossible for Rey not to nod at that. She’d seen the way Paul looked at his dog when he came back home, and the way Como sometimes stared at the door in the afternoon whenever she was busy trying to fix the damn lightsaber: if there was one thing she knew, it was that these two were meant to find each other. Smiling softly, Rey leaned back into her seat and remained silent for the rest of the ride, her eyes fixed on the landscape going by.

The blurry forms of various trees had almost lulled her to sleep when they pulled over on a parking lot Rey didn’t recognize. Paul had promised her something different than Waffle House, and he hadn’t lied: the place looked way fancier but more crowded, and yet almost silent as they approached. Letting Paul guide her, Rey looked around her with a barely restrained curiosity: everything in here looked so fragile, it wouldn’t survive the smallest sandstorm.

With each detail she noticed came a multitude of questions that only increased when they were taken to their table. Aside from the fact that the man who’d welcomed them had insisted on helping her sit down, they both had enough cutlery and plates for three meals; and she was pretty sure Paul had mentioned a simple dinner. Frowning, she opened her mouth to ask about it, but Paul was faster.

“It’s kind of weird,” he said with a chuckle, “I usually go on a date before I even start considering living with someone.”

Maybe Paul couldn’t hear it, but Rey definitely felt her heart miss a beat. It was stupid, really. Paul was an adult, with his own life and experiences. She couldn’t be the first to succumb to his charm; yet she couldn’t help feeling that despite the little time she’d spent on this planet, she knew Paul like no one ever would.

He was too much like him.

“You do that a lot? Go on dates?”

The question seemed to surprise Paul as much as it did Rey. With the slightest of frowns, he unfolded his napkin and pinched his lips together, the hint of a wrinkle creasing his brow as he tilted his head.

“Not… exactly,” he replied carefully. “Why?”

“You said  _ usually _ ,” Rey murmured with a shrug.

She expected him to brush the topic away, like she sometimes did, but once again, she’d underestimated him. Mirroring her, Paul shrugged and gave her a smile that appeased her racing heart for a few seconds, enough for her to focus on his answer. “No, not really.”

The information shouldn’t have caused her jaw to relax, nor should it have tickled her stomach and welcomed a smile back on her lips; but it did. Fighting back her curiosity, Rey gave Paul a small nod and grabbed the shiny menu placed in front of her for distraction before she remembered she couldn’t read what it said.

“Um… I could use your eyes,” she admitted sheepishly.

After the brief second of surprise that always came whenever he forgot about some of Rey’s inabilities, Paul adjusted his glasses on his nose and leaned over the table.

A short puff of a fragrance she knew skimmed Rey’s nostrils as he tilted his head. It wasn’t much, but it surely was enough to take her back to that very morning and make her want to kiss him right then right there. As if the temptation wasn’t big enough, a strand of his hair fell on his eyes, taunting her with that stupid shininess. If she just extended her hand a little, she could easily run her fingers through his raven locks. Run her fingers through them and pull him closer, crush her lips on his and maybe even—

“Oh, they do have a hamburger.”

For the first time of her stay, Rey found herself rather disappointed that Paul mentioned food—but her stomach wasn’t long in reminding her of its needs and growled loudly enough to make her surrender. A few seconds were enough to collect herself and redirect her attention to the menu Paul was deciphering for her.  _ Lobster, pasta, salad _ —he articulated each word carefully, looking up to Rey at each new option. There was nothing but pure kindness in his eyes, only emphasized by the helpfulness he’d shown the past few days.

_ This was what those eyes could look like.  _ She’d only seen a hint of it in Ben’s, that night in her hut. Seized by a wave of trust and affection, she stopped Paul mid-sentence and shook her head. “I think whatever you choose would be perfect.”

Luckily, she didn’t regret that choice when they walked out of the restaurant an hour later. Even though she’d loved every bite of it, the hamburger—or  _ burger _ , as Paul called it—had been a bit much for Rey and she hadn’t been able to finish it. Or maybe she’d been talking too much—she’d had a few drinks of that sweet beverage Paul had ordered for them, and the conversation had been flowing well enough to paint a huge smile on her face she couldn’t get rid of. Or maybe the stupid knot in her stomach had something to do with that.

“What’s next?” she asked as they got back into the car.

With a brief move of his wrist, Paul started the car, a smirk on his lips. “Stargazing.”

The engine roared as Rey felt her heart make a loop inside her chest, and made another one when she felt Paul’s hand search for hers on her seat. Biting her lips, she considered it for a moment before tangling her fingers with his.

“I’ve actually never lived with anyone before.”

Even though he didn’t take his eyes off the road, Rey could feel Paul’s embarrassment. 

Realizing he was going back to their earlier conversation, she cleared her throat and chose to focus on the road as well. “And I’ve never been on a date before.”

This wasn’t exactly what he meant, she knew it. But if his chuckle was any indication, he didn’t mean the way she was leading the conversation to. “How do you like it, so far?”

Not a word crossed Rey’s lips; but she gently stroked the back of his hand, smiling pensively as the engine roared once again.

 

-

  
  


Less than twenty minutes later, they pulled over beside a nice but massive building that reminded Rey of one of those museums she’d seen on the holonetflix. Night had already fallen, making it a bit more complicated for Rey to get out of her seat without exposing her underwear to the entire parking lot. Thankfully, Paul quickly made it to her door and helped her get out of the car before leading her against the crowd of people heading to the parking lot.

“I think everyone is leaving,” Rey observed with a frown.

A shrug shook Paul’s shoulders, but she noticed the grin forming in the corner of his mouth. “They’re closing soon,” he explained without stopping.

“And we’re going in?”

He didn’t reply this time; at least not until they reached a back door and made sure no one could see nor hear them. 

“I pulled a few strings. Working for the government has its perks.”

With that, he took a small key out of his back pocket and waved it proudly before putting it inside the keyhole. After what felt like a whole minute, a  _ clink _ echoed, followed by the familiar creaking noise of a door opening. With a proud smile plastered on his face, Paul pushed it open and motioned Rey to head inside—which she happily did.

A trail of goosebumps that had nothing to do with Paul’s presence behind her immediately emerged on her skin. The place was deserted, silent, but mostly cold, and she suddenly regretted not taking that jacket she’d left on her bed. As if he’d heard her thoughts, Paul took his own jacket off and covered her shoulders with it, only adding to the shivers traveling down her arms.

“Thanks.” Their eyes met again, and Rey felt something warm up in her chest.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t been looking at each other all night: she’d studied his face more than her actual plate and hadn’t blushed once. Yet, something in that look he was giving her right now felt different. With another shiver, Rey let out a nervous chuckle and took her eyes off her host to study the place. The walls were high, made of stone, and covered with signs she couldn’t read—nothing extremely interesting. Curious, she took a few more steps to the next room, which appeared to be bigger and way more enticing.

There wasn’t any decoration in this one; only a few notice boards near the entrance, next to a picture of what seemed to be the building in its early days. A large basin made of stone had been placed in the middle of the room, a bright light emanating from it and reflecting on the walls around.  _ No water _ , Rey noticed as she leaned forwards. There was something down there though, spinning around perfectly—something so hypnotizing that she didn’t notice Paul had joined her until he cleared his throat.

“It’s a Foucault pendulum. It demonstrates the rotation of this planet.”

She didn’t really see why anyone would doubt about the rotation of a planet, but Rey nodded anyway, following the pendulum’s movements with her eyes. Something about its slow yet precise motion was holding her attention. She wasn’t used to calmness, let alone something so peaceful.

Next to her, Paul took a deep breath and turned to her.

“I know there’s no music, but, uh…” A blush made its way to his cheek and he cleared his throat again. “Can I have this dance?”

Timidly, he offered her his hand, and it took Rey all her goodwill not to think about another vast room where someone else had done that before.  _ Not now _ , she reminded herself. Surprisingly quickly, all memories of the  _ Supremacy  _ gave way to older memories; memories of nights spent on the datapad she’d found in one Imperial shipwreck, learning about everything she could lest the files would mysteriously disappear. She’d read about dances—people did that during ceremonies and to celebrate victories. She’d heard about people dancing in cantinas, too; but from what she’d seen in the few holos left on the datapad, those were not the same kind of dances. Some creatures could dance, too, when in a mating period; that, she’d learned about two days ago on the holonetflix.

“It’s something people do here for—”

“I know,” she cut in, a little too abruptly, maybe. “I… I don’t know how to do that.”

“Just follow me.”

If his explanation hadn’t convinced her, his smile sure did—and before she knew it, Rey took his hand and let him place his other one on her waist, gently pulling her closer as he started moving around the room to a silent rhythm. Little by little, Rey relaxed under his touch and felt all tension leave her body as they began to dance in the empty hallway.

“You’re beautiful too,” she murmured after a moment. “I didn’t tell you.”

The hand on her waist slightly tightened its grip. Suppressing a smile, Rey let her own hands travel up to Paul’s upper arms and leaned in closer, resting her head on his chest. She’d found herself wishing many things lately, but right now, she only wished for all of this to last a little. This week had been the longest in a while, and by far the most relaxing. A much-needed break from a war she’d never wanted to be part of.

And just for one second, she found herself thinking that maybe this was what the Force had planned for her. For the briefest moment, an idea brushed her mind. A stupid idea, really; but so stupid it made her smile as she looked up and met Paul’s gaze. Maybe she was stuck here, but… maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

Or maybe this wouldn’t last—but she really didn’t want to think about that right now. 

Guided by nothing more than her desire, she gripped the fabric of Paul’s shirt and pulled him closer until his lips were on hers, kissing her with the tenderness she fully expected of him. They both stopped moving their feet, too preoccupied by the other dance happening between them. Rey was the first to part her lips, but Ben—Paul,  _ Paul _ —was faster with his hands and ran his fingers through her hair just as she slipped her tongue into his mouth.

With the ticking noise of the pendulum as their only music, they slowly resumed their earlier movements, yet not as studiously. Fully distracted by their ongoing kiss, Rey stepped on Paul’s foot once or twice before she surrendered and pulled away slightly.

“I recall you promised me stars,” she whispered against his lips.

A soft, sweet little giggle fell from his lips, and he nodded slowly as he reached for her hand, stepping back as he looked at her appreciatively. There was something in his eyes again as he brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them. It was the same sort of look she’d seen from Ben in the lift on the Supremacy, but suddenly she knew what it meant. “I did. Didn’t I?”

In her chest, her heart went into double time as she watched Paul straighten, then he grasped her hand, and cocked his head toward a nearby hallway. “Down there?” she asked as they began to move. 

“You said you wanted to see my galaxy,” he explained, his voice gentle but still carrying that intelligent quality that she loved so much about it. “This is the only way I know how to show you. We don’t have spaceships that can go light years in a day, or hyperdrives… we just have telescopes and cameras… so it’s just a picture, but… I think you’ll like what you see.”

Another smile crossed Rey’s face as Paul led them into a room with a simple wooden door at its entrance, and pitch black on the inside. She tightened her grip on his hand as they walked into the darkness, and walked carefully by his side as he guided them along the wall. His thumb ran over the back of hers affectionately as his other hand reached out for something on the wall that she couldn’t see, and suddenly, a brilliant blue light flooded the room. 

Her initial reaction was to gasp in shock at how vibrant the light was, but then she heard Paul’s stupidly comforting, soothing laugh, and the shock gave way to joy as he leaned close to her again. “Look up,” he whispered, and so she did, only to give another sharp inhale at what she saw. 

Above their heads was a brilliant spiral galaxy burning brightly with the light of a billion stars. She could see every single piece of its majesty blown up onto some sort of screen on the ceiling of the room, and as the stars began to sparkle above them, her jaw fell open in awe. “This… this is your galaxy?”

“It is,” Paul replied, stepping forward as he took their joined hands and pointed a finger up toward one of the spiral arms. “I’m no astronomer, but somewhere on that great, yellow blur, that’s where we’re standing. That’s home. Everywhere else?” He shook his head. “We have yet to see it. It’s all unexplored, all new… no eyes have ever looked upon it and no feet have ever set foot there.”

“Maybe when I go home, I’ll make a stop on the way,” she breathed, not taking her eyes off of the beauty of the Milky Way. “I’ll be the first.”

Paul’s breath caught in his throat beside her, but as she looked over, he was giving her a smile — laced with a hint of sorrow — and she knew he felt as conflicted about their eventual parting as she did. “I’d love to see that,” he replied as he led her to the center of the room, where a big, circular desk sat waiting for someone to lecture behind. “You’ll have to report back to me everything you find, you know.”

She smiled at him again, then she turned to face him, and caressed his cheek with her free hand. “You’ll be the first one I tell.” He have another giggle, then she rose up on her toes, and kissed him again. 

A tiny hum passed from Paul’s lips to hers as he returned her kiss, and she felt his hands wrap around her waist as he took a step forward, and she moved back in perfect time. Though they’d only known one another for a short amount of time, it amazed her how in tune they were with one another. Already they moved in sync, like they could see what the other was thinking before they even thought it. 

At least, they were that way when it came to kissing, because just as Rey was thinking that she wanted Paul to press her back onto the desk, her ass met its cool, wooden exterior. Groaning slightly from the contact, her disgruntled noise quickly became a pleasant one when he used the hands at her waist to lift her up onto the table, and suddenly she was free to kiss him properly at this new height. 

Her hands wandered down from his cheeks, and slowly began to journey toward the buttons of the pure white shirt he’d put on to take her out that night. They were shaking as she moved, but that night, she’d been sensing all sorts of emotions from Paul. She’d known something was brewing between them, but just what it was, she hadn’t been quite sure until they were in the hallway and she'd kissed him with the reminder that he’d promised her she’d see stars. 

Whatever she wanted to do now, she wasn’t exactly sure how to go about it. Before Paul she’d never been kissed. She’d never been touched or even looked at romantically, and now… maybe he wasn’t the man the Force had connected her to. Maybe he wasn’t Ben Solo, but Ben was… Ben had made his choice. For now, he wasn’t ready for what she knew they both wanted. Neither of them were. Maybe that was just a part of their journey. They had to grow apart and learn to be ready before they could face one another again. 

And in the meantime… The connection between her and Paul hadn’t been forged in the Force—hadn’t been created by some mythic thing that existed in the space between all things —but it was genuine. It was real and raw, and maybe it wasn’t a love that was destined for the stars, but it was enough that she trusted him with every part of her. It was enough that if she were to be stuck on Earth for long enough, she thought it was possible for it to become love. 

In spite of her inexperience, Rey’s trembling fingers then grasped at his buttons, slowly undoing them until they reached the middle of his chest. They only stopped there, though, because Paul reached his hands up from her waist, and gently gripped her hands in his. Both of them were panting hard as he pulled away from the kiss, staring at her through the charming square rims of his glasses as he held her hands close to his chest. 

If she focused, she could feel his heart beating beneath her palms, and it was beating even faster than hers. 

“Rey…” He panted, looking between her eyes both worriedly and excitedly as he stepped a bit closer to her. “Are you… are you sure this is what you want?”

Swallowing nervously, she gave him another nod, then she readjusted her grip on his shirt. “Paul, I… I don’t know much about this sort of thing…” She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his. “But… I know what I want, and I know how I feel, and… if it’s alright with you, I want to do this. I want… I want to do it with  _ you _ .”

The look on his face as he processed her words was priceless. He was so awestruck, so fascinated and full of delight, and she’d never seen anyone look at her quite like that. The expression in his eyes… she didn’t quite know what it was that she was reading in it, but… it was something deeper, something —

“Okay,” he breathed, interrupting her thoughts, then she felt his hands slowly let go of hers, and they cupped her face again as he leaned forward, tilting his head so that his lips met hers in a featherlight, sweet and slow kiss. “But are you sure you don’t want to move? I-I just think a bed might be a bit more comfortable for this kind of situation… or… I don’t know whatever you’re—“

“Shh,” she breathed, shutting him up with another quick kiss. “This is perfect. All right? It’s perfect. I… I don’t need a bed. I don’t need anything fancy… I just need  _ you _ .”

There was another pause, then Paul nodded, and pressed his forehead more firmly against her. “Okay… then… then we’re going to take this as slow as we can… and pray we don’t get caught,” he told her, then a strand of her hair was being brushed behind her ear. “Rey, if you want to stop at any point… don’t hesitate. I don’t want to pressure you—“

“I know…” she breathed, then she balled her hand into a fist. “I want you… I want you to put your hands on me.” With that, she took his wrists in her hands, and lowered them down slowly toward her hips. 

With a shuddering breath, Paul let his hands drift slowly down with her guidance until they rested at the tops of her thighs, then he guided them down as Rey’s hands slid back up to rest on his chest. She watched with held breath as he brought them to her knees, then he slowly slipped his fingers beneath the skirt of her dress. 

“What are you doing?” she asked curiously as his fingers began to skirt up her thigh, but she didn’t stop him. Whatever it was Paul was intending to do, she trusted him, even if she didn’t understand his intent. 

A soft chuckle escaped him, then he leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “Rey, this is your first time, and I don’t want to hurt you… I’m just…” His hand brushed against the innermost part of her thigh, causing her to shiver as his fingertips began to stretch further up to the line of her underwear. “... making sure you’re prepared…” 

The next sound of her mouth was a sharp gasp as his fingertips brushed over the lace, and slowly slipped inside just above the hair at the apex of her thighs. After that, her breathing grew unsteady as she watched Paul’s hand moving beneath her lifted skirt, and his fingers drew closer to where she desperately wanted them — where just hours earlier, she’d brought herself to orgasm in his bathtub. 

With his free hand, he gently caressed her cheek, and began pressing soft little kisses to her face, covering her cheeks, her temples, and her jaw as his fingers finally found her clit. Another light moan passed over her lips, ghosting over his as he began circling it with his thumb; his other fingers continuing down through where she was already wet toward her entrance as she shuddered against his touch. 

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered, and if she could think about anything but the stars she was seeing behind her eyes — never mind the ones above her head — she would’ve laughed at him, but she couldn’t. All she could do was wrap her arms around his shoulders, and hold onto him as his lips pressed against hers again, and he kissed the oxygen from her lungs while he slipped a finger inside of her. Rey had never had anyone’s hands on her but her own, and she was quickly finding she liked the sensation of Paul’s as they brought her a pleasure she’d never quite reached on her own. 

Sure, she’d brought herself to orgasm before, but she’d never quite made it feel like this. She’d never been unable to hold back the moans that escaped her with every time her fingers pumped in and out of her like he seemed to, and she’d never been able to make herself feel as if she were going to come at any second even after only a minute. “ _ Shit,”  _ she breathed, breaking the kiss for a microsecond to swear as his thumb picked up its pace on her clit. 

His mouth was on hers again less than a second later after the world’s shortest laugh, then she felt a second finger prodding at her entrance, but not quite following the first just yet. It was as if he were quietly waiting for permission, as if he were asking for the invitation without saying it. 

She gave him the answering yes by deepening the kiss, threading her fingers through his hair as she let her tongue sweep along his lower lip, and suddenly she was being stretched a little. Two of his fingers were worth three — maybe four — of hers, and at first she was a little…  _ surprised _ , but then she recovered, and gave him another enthusiastic hum as she kissed him. Those fingers inside of her began to move immediately, picking up their pace as the thumb on her clit rubbed with a new vigor, and she knew he was now actively trying to make her come, and he was trying to make her come  _ hard.  _

“Paul,” she breathed, pulling away from the kiss as she felt her orgasm building deep within her gut. “Paul, I’m gonna… I’m gonna come…”

“Then come, I’ll get you through it,” he promised her, speeding up those sinfully thick fingers of his as she cried out another unintelligible swear. “Come for me, Rey.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she moaned, certain the entire city could hear her as she tightened her grip on his shoulders —  _ his damn hair  _ — and managed to get in one last breath of air before she came with a shout around his fingers. It felt like she fought a battle to find her breath as waves of pleasure surged through her, and she became lightheaded in his arms, supported only by Paul’s broad shoulders as he continued to finger her through each little aftershock. 

It wasn’t until she was no longer seeing stars and shaking in front of him that he finally pulled his fingers away, and she was able to breathe for a moment. Even after that, it felt like ages before her vision returned, and his face came into focus. “I… I…” Words had escaped her, and she couldn’t quite find what would describe what she was feeling. “Shit… I…”

He shook his head. “You don’t have to say anything,” he promised her, then he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “But… was it good for you?”

Rey gave him an enthusiastic nod. “Yes,” she said in a rush. “It was perfect. That was… that was everything…”

Another chuckle. “And that was just the beginning.” Suddenly he paused, and backed away slightly as if he’d said something to offend her. “Unless you don’t want it to be. We- we can definitely stop there.”

She shook her head, laughter bubbling up from her chest as she cupped the base of his skull in her hands, then her tone quickly sobered. “I don’t want to stop there,” she replied, amazed by how steady her voice was considering she still felt thoroughly like a puddle after what Paul had done. “I want you.” Taking in another deep breath, she let out a sigh as she closed her eyes, and rested her forehead against his. “I want you to make me feel like that again… but… this time I want you to come with me.”

A shiver ran through Paul’s body, and for a moment she feared it meant he didn’t want her, but then he took her face in his hands, his arms wrapping around her own as his fingers brushed her skin, then he was kissing her again. The room felt like it was spinning anew as he tilted her head back, taking the air from her lungs more efficiently than she ever could’ve prepared herself for as he let one of his hands wander down from her face. 

Confusion filled her at first, but then she heard the sound of his pants zipper coming undone, and the faint rustling of fabric as he then slipped the button through the little hole cut into his slacks that held it in place. A slight sense of nervousness flooded her veins, but it was quickly washed out as Paul pulled back, and looked into her eyes. “I… I don’t have any protection…” he said softly, his head hanging slightly as if he were ashamed. 

“I have an implant, we’ll be fine,” she assured him, running a hand through that stupidly soft hair of his as she caught sight of the planetarium’s Stars reflected in his eyes. “Don’t worry about me.”

The stars in his eyes seemed to dance as he let the hand on her face drift down until it was resting comfortably on her hip, then she felt him begin to hike her skirt further up her thighs. “Then just let me know if you need to stop,” he told her, and as she gave him her returning nod, he began to lower his own trousers, but he never broke eye contact with her. Whatever feeling that brought, she couldn’t quite put a word to it, but she knew it had her head both spinning and all too focused. It felt like she was floating and perfectly controlled at the same time, and it was… it was somehow  _ perfect.  _

The hand at her skirt hiked it up until nearly all of her thigh was exposed to the cool air of the planetarium, and she shivered as it pulled her underwear down the tanned skin. After that, Paul hesitated for a moment, waiting for her to nod before he kept going, pulling it down until it was past her knees, and the lace fell to her ankles as he finally freed his cock from its confines. 

_ That  _ was when she felt nervous. She’d heard about sex before in her galaxy — had gotten off plenty of times to the thought of someone fucking her into a mattress — but she’d never quite thought about the specifics. In particular, she’d never wondered if a cock could struggle to fit inside of her. Looking at his, though, she began to wonder if it might. 

“Are you okay?” Paul asked quietly, then his eyes were looking into hers again, and she felt as if somehow they were reading her mind as she looked back at him. 

The stars seemed to spin around his head, giving him an odd sort of animated — but beautiful — halo around the dark waves of his hair as she ran a hand through it. “I’m fine,” she promised him. “It’s the… it’s the inexperience.”

One of the corners of his mouth twitched up into a smile, then he gently reached up to stroke the skin of her cheek with one of his thumbs. “You’ll be all right… just… just follow my lead,” he replied, then he kissed her again, and the stars in his eyes and behind his head swam in her vision as his lips took away her worries. 

All fear escaped her into their kiss, and as she finally felt him pressing the tip of his cock into her entrance; Rey had never felt more at peace. Her galaxy, her home world, the war, Ben, and everything in between that was worrying her melted away as he slowly pushed into her. The pressure she felt between her thighs was unlike anything she’d ever experienced from her own hand — or his, though she’d sought pleasure from it only once so far — and at first it concerned her. At first it felt like it was too foreign, too odd for her to properly enjoy it, but then he shifted his angle slightly — almost as if he’d picked up on her discomfort — and suddenly she was able to understand how this could feel good. 

A soft little moan escaped her into their kiss as he pressed further inside, every inch somehow feeling a little better than the last until he suddenly stopped, and she broke away to look up at him in confusion. 

Paul’s eyes were soft, but serious when she looked up into them then, and the hand on her cheek had never felt quite so warm as it stroked it gingerly, and a tiny exhale left his lungs. Not a word was passed between them as that hand abandoned its gentle caress of her face, and slowly drifted down to find its hold on one of her hips. Every shred of their conversation ceased to be verbal, passing only in the tiny shifts and twitches of their faces as they watched one another in the dim, yet brilliant light of the false sky above them. 

Continuing his wordlessness, Paul began to move, pulling out of her a little ways before slowly pressing in. She could tell he was holding back, though; his movements were hesitant, almost a little anxious in their nature, and she knew the precise cause. “I’m not a piece of glass, Paul.” She took his shoulders into her hands, gripping them tightly as she spoke, then she shifted forward on the desk so that he sank even deeper inside of her. The responding moan he gave had her internally cheering in victory. “You can move a little faster.”

And move faster, he  _ did.  _ The slow, easy, and very gentle pace he’d set initially picked up, and suddenly what they were doing started to feel  _ wonderful.  _ Her own fingers were once again rendered to nothing as he thrust into her, and were only more insignificant as he reached a hand between them, and stroked her clit with his thumb. 

His name fell from her lips as if it were something holy, and she fisted the fabric of his blazer tightly in her hands as her back arched into him from the pleasure it brought her. They were nearly chest to chest; no space between them as he fucked — was this fucking? No… no, it was too tender, too sweet to possibly be called fucking —  _ made love  _ to her beneath the massive projection of the stars. 

As Paul pulled back slightly she let her eyes flutter open, catching sight of those same, brilliant lights surrounding him like a halo as he looked at her through hooded eyes. “ _ Rey, _ ” he breathed, and she’d never shivered so much from the sound of her own name before. 

The light stayed like a ghost — an echo of itself — behind her eyes as she closed them, and began to press messy and flawed but intense kisses along the line of his jaw as he pressed into her a little more. “ _ Fuck,”  _ she swore under her breath between each kiss, having to stop pressing them into his skin at his pulse point as the sensations he was bringing her became almost overwhelming. 

As the time passed, he managed to hit a spot inside of her that she scarcely ever reached unless she was determined, and Rey cried out loudly enough that she thought someone else might hear, but then she remembered what he’d told her when they’d walked in.  _ No one would be interrupting them.  _

With that in mind, she allowed herself to be a bit more vocal, and in turn, he did the same. Their voices — their soft cries and loud shouts — echoed from the walls as they built one another toward their climaxes, and within a minute of him saying her name again, Rey felt her second one building within her, coiling in her gut as it prepared to unleash itself. Her only warning to Paul before she came with a loud shout around his cock was a silent little gasp that accompanied brilliant supernovas of light in her vision as she finally tumbled over the edge. 

Seeming to not want to be left behind, Paul tumbled over it with her, and for those precious few seconds they were both lost to waves of pleasure and each other. They were drifting through the stars as one, joined unit; drifting apart from time and space and everything in between. There was her, there was him, and there were the constellations and nebulae of the night sky, which were their only lingering tethers to reality and their surroundings. They were the only sign that they’d been in the planetarium — or on Earth — at all. 

Coming back to reality after seeming to rejoin hyperspace for a moment wasn’t as harsh as she expected. It was as if they’d floated gracefully down from their highs instead of crash landing back into normalcy, and the easy transition allowed her to smile as they both panted from how they’d exerted themselves. 

Yet in spite of the slight exhaustion, Rey had never felt more awake and alive. As the stars in her vision rejoined their projection on the ceiling, she brushed a piece of his hair out of his face, and kissed him shortly but sweetly while the last of her sex induced haze escaped her. 

“Are you…” Paul panted, then he slowly began to pull back from her. “Are you okay?”

Rey furrowed her eyebrows as he pulled out of her, and began tucking himself back into his pants. “Of course I am.” Another grin blossomed on her face, and she gave him a second kiss to his cheek. “That was… that was perfect…”

“It was?” he asked, the fear leaving his voice only slightly. 

She nodded again. “Yes… no one… no one’s ever made me feel like that before.” Tucking a strand of her own hair back behind her ear, she awkwardly cleared her throat. “I… not even  _ I’ve  _ made myself feel like that before. You… you’re perfect… you took something a little intimidating and… you made sure I would be okay and… no one’s ever done that for me. So thank you.”

The corners of Paul’s mouth twitched upward, then his hand cupped her jaw. “I’m… I’m glad.”

“Actually…” Rey said, and she could suddenly feel the dread coming off of him in waves. It was almost a little charming, but she couldn’t keep him panicked for long.  _ Not if she wanted him to honor her next request.  _ “I was wondering if we could… if we could do it again? I…” A blush crept up her cheeks. “I really… I… I want to keep going…”

In that moment, Paul looked at her like she’d given him the sun, and he laughed in amused delight. “I… I’d love to… but…” And this time, it was  _ his  _ turn to tease  _ her.  _ Just as panic began to settle into her mind, he smirked. “If you think I’m going to spend the rest of the night fucking you into this desk… you’re wrong. You deserve better than mahogany.”

Blinking her surprise, Rey let the hands on his shoulders slide down to his chest. “Where are we going, then?”

Giving her another, slightly wicked grin, Paul leaned forward, and whispered in her ear, “Anywhere you like.” He then shifted, and planted a kiss to her forehead. “But I feel the need to remind you that I have a very comfortable bed if you’re willing to wait a minute.”

Rey thought about this for a second, running over the options she had for all the places they could make love a second time, then quickly came to the decision that he was right. A bed was comfortable, a bed had more space, and a bed wasn’t in public view. There was absolutely zero risk for someone to walk in on them. With that in mind, she gave him an enthusiastic nod. 

“Let’s go then,” she said, then she leapt off the desk, and tugged her underwear up from around her ankles. “I don’t want to wait for long.”

His jaw slightly ajar, Paul waited until she’d finished adjusting her clothing, then he took her hand in his, and led her out of the planetarium, breaking them into a run as they fled into the night, and made their way toward his car. Though the night had only just begun, Rey could already tell one thing for certain…

She wouldn’t be getting a minute of sleep that night.


	5. The Wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full disclosure, this chapter is 75% porn, 25% plot - but there remains a dearth of Paul Sevier smut out there, and we need to make this one count. Thanks for reading! <3

Getting through the front door was a clumsy affair. By the time Paul pulled the key from the lock and attempted to hang it up, Rey was throwing herself against him and kissing him as if she’d been waiting years rather than minutes. Or maybe it was the other way around. It was hard to tell. He heard the keys hit the floor, though, and the sound of the door clicking shut, and he felt himself lock it with the hand that wasn’t tangled up in Rey’s hair.

He was vaguely aware of Como approaching too. Claws clicking on the hardwood, the sweep of a tail wagging out the corner of his eye, and—there it was—the wet nose in his palm and the slide of a hot, canine tongue over his knuckles.

_ Shit, not now. _

Paul pushed the nose away with a gentle but distracted “ _ No, down _ ” before Rey’s own tongue was back in his mouth and he couldn’t say much of anything at all. He backed her against the wall as she gave an “oof!” of surprise and wrapped her arms tighter around his neck. 

But Como was not easily put off, or he wasn’t getting the hint. Paul really,  _ really _ did not want to break away from Rey; her shallow breaths came as little moans or the prettiest sighs, and she was already unbuttoning his shirt again, her hands far steadier than they had been earlier, as he pushed a thigh between her legs. A thigh that Como was now nudging at, emitting a high, questioning whine.

“Fuck.” 

Paul almost felt bad about blurting that right into Rey’s mouth, but she laughed and bit his lip, and he liked that a lot, so maybe it was worth it. Hell, maybe profanity turned her on. He considered trying it again but just kissed her a few more times instead, telling himself that  _ this _ would be the last one for a few moments while he did his due diligence and suggested they relocate to a dog-free environment. It took a few attempts to convince himself, but finally he extricated himself from Rey’s eager grasp.

“Hey, maybe we . . .” he muttered, catching one of her hands with his and momentarily losing his train of thought when he felt her other hand tripping over his zipper. On noticing the press of his quickly returning erection, Rey made a sound of excited interest and doubled down on her efforts to get his pants open. Paul swallowed a moan of protest and cleared his throat as he attempted in vain to straighten his glasses. “Let’s move this to the bedroom.”

Rey looked disappointed for a moment, then grinned as she tugged him toward her by the front of his blazer and kissed his throat. “No, right here.” Her hips tilted against his. “Can we do it here, like this?”

The combination of desperation and certainty in her voice made him laugh, despite how uncomfortably tight his pants felt and how he missed her hand there now that she’d moved it up. He leaned toward her to risk another kiss, then murmured against her cheek, “Yeah, sure, we can.” 

_ Could  _ they? It was a nice idea in theory, but the last thing he wanted to remember about tonight was how he’d dropped Rey on her ass while trying to fuck her against the wall of his foyer. It seemed like movie shit, but . . . 

“Let me put Como to bed. Don’t go anywhere.”

Paul didn’t wait to see her reaction, but he felt her mouth curve in a smile before he parted from her and beckoned Como down the hall toward the guest room. Ever obedient, the dog trotted into the room and turned to face Paul before he sat expectantly, head cocked, ears perked.

“Sorry, bud. It won’t be all night.” 

Paul turned away from the guilt-inducing puppy eyes and shut the door quietly. When he and Rey were done, he would make sure to let Como back out and maybe give him a few extra treats. He suspected he would be in a treating mood by then and the slight would be forgiven.

As he passed his bedroom he slipped inside, threw his blazer on the bed, and pulled his shoes off. Then he opened the nightstand drawer to find what he probably should have thought to have with him earlier, even if Rey was on some sort of space birth control. In the moment he hadn’t given it a second thought, hadn’t questioned what sort of implant she was talking about. But now he was being plagued with irrational what-ifs, and he really didn’t want to have those swirling around in the back of his mind for the duration of whatever was about to happen here, and— 

_ Calm the hell down and go find her before she changes her mind. _

Paul shoved the condom into his back pocket and returned to the foyer. Rey was right where he’d left her, barefoot and leaning against the wall by the front door. The porchlight shining in through the window illuminated her hair and profile and made her look almost supernatural, like a dreamy vision or a ghost. Or maybe an angel, if he was going to get sentimental about it. Though an angel probably wouldn’t have been frantically unbuttoning the front of its dress as it noticed him approaching.

He drew up in front of her and half-heartedly stilled her hands, seeking her mouth with his. 

“You in a hurry?”

“You have no idea how hard it was to keep my hands off you in the car,” she muttered, glancing up at him as she wriggled her hands out of his grasp. “I’m sick of waiting. I hate waiting. Can you just—get me out of this thing?”

Paul had a fleeting impression that there was something else behind her urgency, not just lust triggered by their sweet intimate moment in the planetarium, but she didn’t appear to be in a talking mood. Neither was he, really.

He took over at the buttons of her dress, going faster than he might have otherwise, revealing her collarbones, the slight, pretty curves of her breasts, her flat stomach. For how thoroughly he had touched her earlier, for as much as he ached to do it again, he had barely seen any of her at all. He wanted to address that oversight as soon as possible. He wanted to taste every inch of her skin until she was shining and squirming and shaking.

One thing at a time. The buttons ended just above her navel, and she hurriedly wiggled out of the dress, shucking it over her hips and nearly tripping as she kicked away the fabric that pooled at her feet. And then she froze, back to the wall as Paul took her in. He hadn’t been expecting lace, hadn’t even realized she’d bought underwear like that—he’d been too busy losing his mind over the feeling of how wet and snug she’d been when he used his fingers on her to notice what sort of underwear she’d had on. His cock gave a needy throb at the sight of her smooth skin and the thought of what she would look like with all of it bared.

Rey seemed excited but suddenly shy, like the way he was looking at her as she stood almost naked in front of him was more surprising than she’d expected. He wondered if she needed some reassurance, but she was already over it—she finished unbuttoning his shirt in a flash and pushed it back from his shoulders as he got rid of his pants, which was a huge relief, even if he was still wearing boxer-briefs. It seemed . . . fair, or something, though fairness was far from the first thing on his mind as she ran her hands down his chest and abdomen. Her eyes tracked over him hungrily. He rarely gave much thought to the state of his body—he exercised to stay fit because his job kept him cramped up in an office most of the time, and because making time to run or throw some weights around kept his mind clear. He didn't do it to impress anyone. 

But Rey was impressed. Her tongue swept over her bottom lip, which was swollen, pink, and far too tempting.

He cupped her face in his hands and leaned down to kiss her again, happy enough to let her set the pace if it meant she would keep winding her fingers through his hair. One of her legs crooked behind his knees and pulled him to her, and a moment later she was rubbing her crotch against his erection and practically whining in his ear for more.

Paul ducked his face to suck at her neck, and when she responded well to that, nipped at her jaw as well. Without thinking, he reached behind her and began groping around for the closure of her bra.

“S’in front,” she said, a little breathless, tipping her head back to let him kiss her throat.

He hummed questioningly against her, frustrated by the fact that her bra was still very much on.

“It closes in the front.” Rey spoke more clearly this time, with a small laugh as she leaned away from him as much as possible, which was not much, and pointed at her chest.

But yes, he did see what she meant now—the closure was nestled between her breasts, snug against her skin. How convenient.

Paul grinned and ran a finger from the hollow of her throat to the clasp. Her chest was rising and falling very quickly, her skin a bit dewy with sweat. “But does it open?”

Rey scoffed, and in the next moment she unhooked it with what may as well have been a wave of her hand for how instantaneous the change was. As she twisted around a bit to slide it off, he watched. Her breasts were small and attractive; they looked so soft, too, pale skin, pink nipples stiff and slightly upturned. 

He bent to take one in his mouth, maybe too eagerly, as his hands traveled lower. Though as his tongue swirled over her she gasped with pleasure, and she did it again when he slipped his hand inside the front of her underwear, already familiar with how she liked to be touched there. She was as hot and wet as she had been the last time, and he gave a low moan of satisfaction when she arched into him and dragged herself against the heel of his hand.

And then there was her hand, on him, stroking him through his boxer-briefs. Her touch was hesitant at first— _ fuck she hadn’t touched him like this before _ —exploring and pressing, squeezing and cupping, bolder with each second.

“Rey . . .” He got the word out against her chest before she did  _ something _ that made his whole body erupt in goosebumps. “You can—” 

But she already had the idea and was tugging his briefs down before he finished the thought. He had a moment or so to consider exactly how ridiculous it was to be standing here naked in his socks—but Rey was staring at his cock and then at his face and pulling her own underwear down her legs, and he forgot all about it. 

He backed her into the wall hard enough that her body made a dull thunk as she collided with it, though she didn’t seem to care. Her hands were in his hair, and then they were sliding down over his shoulders, his back, his ass, like she didn’t have all night and needed to touch as much of him as she could as soon as possible. They were close enough together that he could feel her belly flexing against his erection with each movement, which was equal parts great and awful and heated every inch of his body anew. One of her legs hooked behind him again, and his hand automatically moved to support it beneath her thigh.

“Pick me up now,” she said when he freed her mouth and returned to her breasts, just coherent enough that he didn’t need to ask her to repeat it. “Pin me here and fuck me. Please, Paul, I wanna come around you again.”

He didn’t think it was physically possible for him to get any harder, but the way his blood rushed at hearing Rey say that made him wonder. Paul moved his hands to her waist and felt as if he was forgetting something as he began to lift her; he remembered as soon as her hand began to close around him again.

“Shit . . .” He set her down and pulled away, crouching awkwardly to grab his discarded pants. The goddamn condom. He was being ridiculous. She didn’t care. “Sorry, hold— hold that thought.”

“What the hell are you doing?” Rey’s bare feet shuffled back and forth as he shoved his hand in one of the back pockets and found it. “You can’t have dropped something.”

He’d worried she was annoyed, and she probably was a bit, but there was a smile in her voice too. And he was eye-level with her pussy, and he could see and smell her, and he wanted to taste her too . . . it was tempting. Or something to keep in mind for later, because he was pretty sure she would not tolerate waiting much longer for him to stick his cock inside her. He settled to cup her ass in his palms to draw her nearer, then dragged a few messy kisses from her belly to her ribs and was rewarded by her wanton sigh and her fingers tightening over his ears to tug at his hair.

“Didn’t drop anything,” he said as he rose, perversely pleased by how slow Rey was to let go of him. “Forgot something, almost.” 

“What’s that?” She was eyeing the condom wrapper with lust-deadened confusion. “A portion packet?”

Paul couldn’t help laughing, because he knew what a portion packet was. “No. Jesus, no—this isn’t to eat.”  _ Although . . . _ “Uh. It’s . . . protection.”

“I told you I have an implant.”

“Yeah, which is . . . great, but I don’t really—I’d just feel better about this if . . .”

Rey was already waving her hands at him, scuffling back and forth again like she couldn’t keep still for how excited she was. “All right fine, just hurry.”

Her impatience was charming and flattering, and he got a new idea as he tore the foil open, unbidden but maybe not terrible. He held the condom out to her. “Do you want to put it on me?”

“I . . .” She looked down and seemed to piece together that she would get to touch him more if she did, and that he wanted her to. God, he wanted her to. “Okay. What do I do?”

 She must have been expecting something more complicated, because as she grasped him and began to roll it down his length, her brow crinkled and her mouth pinched curiously. 

“That’s all? Does this thing stay on the whole time?”

He snorted back another laugh, though the motion still jostled him in her hand, and he had to hiss in a breath before he could speak. “Ideally, yeah.”

“Will I feel it?”

“It might feel different—if you don’t like it we’ll do it your way again next time—” 

“Next time . . .” Rey’s eyes sparked and she let go of him, wrapping her arms around his neck, her breasts brushing his chest as she stretched up to kiss him. “I’m more interested in this time.” 

“Same.” He bent a little to run a hand under her thigh again, gripping her lightly, letting

 his fingers press at her soft skin. “Tell me if you’re slipping, or if this is uncomfortable. I’ve never done it this way before.”

She nodded so hard he thought he heard her teeth chattering, and let him press her against the wall again as she drew her leg higher. There was a small grin bowing her lips again, mischievous and wanting. “Neither have I.”

Her heel rubbed at his tailbone, slipped a bit lower and kneaded his ass, and he rocked his hips forward once to let his length slide along her wet folds. Rey quivered and moaned; her nails dug into his shoulder as she tried to grind down into him. In response he moved against her again, trying a new angle to get the leverage right.

“Your other leg,” he prompted, fingers stroking over the round rise of her backside, creeping down her thigh, coaxing her to lift that leg and wrap it around his waist too. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

Oh, he fucking hoped so. The wall helped a lot, and so did her arms tight around his shoulders, and the way her legs parted and cradled him as he supported her. He’d never felt closer to her and he wasn’t even inside of her yet, but the feeling of her heat and arousal on his skin was making it hard not to thrust himself right into her. Her breaths were short and hot against his face, fogging up one of his lenses. “Paul . . .”

“I know. You might need to . . . reach down and help me out.”

“Yeah.” 

One of her arms slid between them, and she wrapped her hand around him again and guided him to her entrance, hitching her hips a little to align herself better, her slick thighs sliding over his sides. As soon as he felt the head of his cock nudge inside her, he released his hold on her just enough to let gravity take over a bit—she took him an inch at a time, slowly at first. And then she bucked against him to take him fully, deeper than he had been the last time, practically impaling herself. Her whole body tensed and her head tipped back as he pulled out a few inches and pushed back into her. He tried to maintain that measured pace a few more times, losing himself in the feeling of how hot and perfect and snug she was around him, until Rey flexed her legs and circled her hips, then moaned again as her clit rubbed against his pubic bone. He remembered what she had said at the planetarium—she wasn’t made of glass. 

No, she certainly wasn’t. She was made of heated skin and soft, scented hair; a racing pulse; the salt of her sweat; soft curves and sharp edges; lean muscle and flashing eyes; a rich, bright voice that, right now, he would do anything to hear screaming his name when he made her come. What was he holding back for?

He hoisted her higher as he increased the speed and depth of his thrusts. The wall began to tremble behind her, and the pane of the window beside the door rattled. Her breasts bounced against him as her voice became a throaty, gasping moan. He was certain she couldn’t cling to him any harder than she was, certain that there would be marks on his back and shoulders where her fingers dug for purchase, on his neck and chest where her lips drew his skin against her teeth. If she started to slip it was just an excuse to tighten his hold on her and buck his hips into her with greater zeal, to take her harder and make her his. If the neighbors were awake, they were surely hearing all of it—the rhythmic banging of the wall, Rey’s ecstatic cries, his own moans and grunts of effort, maybe even the wet slap of skin on skin. 

Fuck it, the neighbors never liked him much anyway. 

Rey didn’t scream his name when she came, but she did scream, the sound of it barely muffled against his neck as she buried her face there and writhed like she was no longer in control of her body. It was a pretty, desperate sound, and the tight throb of her climax over his cock, flutters that spread from where they were still joined and climb up through his very core, drove him closer to the edge. Each fading spasm of her walls around him urged him on, to surge ahead and finish, and his arms were shaking when he climaxed, his cry of relief mingling with Rey’s breathy gasps. 

If he could have, he would have held her there longer; but his arms burned, and his cock was softening inside her. He peppered a few kisses over her cheek and temple, then drew his hands down her thighs, gently coaxing her to release the hold of her legs around his waist.

“You okay?” he asked as her feet hit the floor. 

She seemed a touch unsteady, like her legs had gone numb, and maybe they had even though they’d felt like iron around him. She was still leaning on him, too, her hands tracing idly over his arms. 

“Kriff, I’m— Yeah.” One of her hands squeezed his bicep, and she snickered, still catching her breath. “Are you? You’re shaking.”

“Recovering,” he said with a smirk. He slid one hand down her back and squeezed one firm globe of her ass. “Let me take care of some things, and I’ll meet you in the bedroom?”

Her teeth pinched at his shoulder, and she slid away from him to pad quietly down the hall and disappear into the dark of his room. It wasn’t until he saw the light turn on that he realized he’d been staring at her retreat with his hand on his dick. He snapped out of his momentary stupor enough to dispose of the condom and make a very half-assed go at gathering  _ some _ of their discarded clothing before he decided that between this and attending to the naked woman currently waiting in his bed, he much preferred the latter.

He slipped his boxer-briefs back on and even had the wherewithal to let Como back out before heading to his bedroom and shutting the door behind him. Rey was in his bed, stretched out on her stomach, feet kicked up in the air almost whimsically. Paul’s eyes were immediately drawn to the perfect curve of her ass as she twisted her body a bit to look at him.

“Why are you dressed?” she asked, clearly fighting a grin. He had some doubts about whether his current state counted as ‘dressed’, but that was hardly the issue at hand. “Do you want to go again?”

Jesus, she was going to kill him. He was positive he had not had this much action in a single night—not even the possibility of it—in years. It was a welcome turn of events, but . . .

He chuckled and climbed in with her, settling over her to trail a few idle kisses down her back and run his hands over the landscape of her bare skin. “I unequivocally want to go again, yes. But you’re going to need to give me a few minutes.”

“Oh.” 

She didn’t complain or ask why, but she seemed a little put out.

“Though,” Paul continued, placing a hand at her hip and urging her to roll onto her back. “I can do something else for you, while we wait. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

As Rey settled on her back, her hair a complete mess as it fanned out over the pillows beneath her head, her face lit up with expectation. “Oh yeah?”

“Hmm. I want to make you come with my mouth and see if you taste as good as you feel.”

Her face flushed and her eyes widened, though she looked eager rather than alarmed; there were goosebumps on her skin, and her chest was rising and falling more quickly, nipples pert and begging him to drag his tongue over them. Paul straddled her and palmed her breasts lightly to stroke her cooling skin, let his thumbs wander just beneath them to trace the faint ridge of her ribs.

“Well?”

“You— You should stop wondering and find out.” 

She shifted her hips and parted her thighs, and the change was so subtle that he didn’t think she had done so on purpose. Paul grinned at her and crushed his mouth to hers, taking advantage of her position to rub himself between her legs until he could feel her soaking into the front of his shorts. As he started to move down her body, she laced her fingers behind his neck to halt him.

“I’ll stop if you don’t like it,” he reassured her. 

But she shook her head and bit her lip. 

“No, it’s not that.” Rey reached up to pluck his glasses from his face. He’d forgotten all about them. She looked at them briefly, face still pink and practically glowing, then reached to slip them onto the nightstand. “That okay?” 

His vision of her had softened around the edges, but she was still perfect and waiting, and he still had every intention of burying his face between her thighs until he felt her bucking against him again. “I plan to make a beautiful mess of you, so it’s definitely okay.”

Rey laughed as he scooted further down the bed and guided her legs over his shoulders, though the sound broke off abruptly into a low moan of surprise when he pressed his mouth to her and slid his tongue slowly along her folds. One of her hands ran over the back of his head, fingers tangling tight in his hair as she gave another trembling gasp. The feeling made his blood rush until it was pounding in his ears. He could spend all night down here, he was certain—but at this rate he was going to be hard again in no time, and he remembered what Rey had wanted. He would make the wait worth her while.

 

-

 

When she and Paul made love again, she was on top, and she realized how electrifying it could be to watch the way his face changed at the slightest move of her body against his. The way he  _ looked _ at her. It no longer shocked her, but it made her wish he would never look away.

 They’d finished a while ago, and the room had become very quiet. She could hear distant traffic outside, the low hum of a heating unit, and Como lapping water from his dish down the hall. The light was on, and Paul had thrown a blanket over them as she nestled against his side. She found herself still disinclined to tear her eyes from his face.

This turn of events had been . . . unexpected, somehow—before tonight she hadn’t let herself think he’d take things that far. She was happy he had, and happy that she had been so clear about what she wanted. He made her feel secure and desirable, and in all their time together tonight, she had not once thought of being anywhere else but with him. It made it easy to imagine that nothing mattered but the solid presence of his body beside her, and the way his eyes drifted over her when he cracked them as she planted her chin on his chest. 

It was a strange feeling. A good feeling, but one tinged with a thread of guilt and worry that they had just made things harder for themselves.

If they had, it was a problem she was not sure she was equipped to solve. Not right now, at least. Her body felt loose and satisfied, her mind sluggish. She wasn’t sure she had ever been this content. She wondered what Paul must be thinking as his fingers roved over her skin; the same things, maybe. In the silence, she realized that she had never told him what she’d seen earlier, before they’d gone out, before all this.

“What’s up?” he asked. 

Jarred by his voice and the feeling that he had somehow perceived the turn of her thoughts, Rey shifted and looked him in the eye.

“I figured out how I got here,” she said. 

Beneath her cheek, his chest twitched. “What? When? Just now?” 

His body compressed as if he was about to spring up out of bed, and she tightened her hand over his shoulder.

“Last night— Er, well, no, I guess it was earlier. When you were at work. I was meditating, and I had a vision. The Force showed me something.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She was surprised at how easily he accepted the idea of her having a vision at all. Had she ever explained those to him? She didn’t think she had. She had been quite careful about the things she shared with him about her life—not because she didn’t trust him, but because they were not hers alone to divulge.

“I . . . I don’t know. I wanted to enjoy the night with you. For once I wasn’t thinking about home all the time. It felt . . . it felt nice.” 

She felt awful admitting that now, like it was a betrayal of herself and everything she had left behind, yet she still didn’t think she would have done any different if given the chance to start the night over. 

Paul sighed and stroked the side of her face, ran a thumb over her lips. “It’s fine. What did you see?”

Even after a week with him, of explaining things about her world and life piecemeal, it was still a challenge to explain what the Force had shown her—especially when she didn’t understand all of it herself. What power could have done  _ that _ to the  _ Supremacy _ ? Yet when she finished, Paul looked no less interested and thoughtful than he had at the start.

“So . . . something opened a wormhole. Your ship got drawn into it, and it popped you out here. That’s a start, I guess, but . . . ” He gave a short, disbelieving laugh, like the situation was so absurd he still sometimes struggled to comprehend he was part of it. “You think it was something to do with a hyperspace lane?”

“Maybe. It was hard to tell. It  _ looked _ like there’d been something just before—sort of a flash.” Paul was looking at her with unmasked fascination, and she smiled a little as she continued. “There’s all sorts of theories and stories about what happens when you mess around with hyperspace, but nothing’s ever proven because anyone who  _ has _ never comes back.”

“I hope for their sake they haven’t all ended up in Atlanta.”

Rey snorted. “Most of the ideas I’ve heard involve dying a horrible death.”

“Ah.”

“I’d forgotten it all, I guess when I bumped my head in the crash. But I think it must be true. I know what it feels like to . . . to be shown something by the Force. It’s happened to me before, a few times.”

He rolled a bit and wrapped an arm around her to keep in place against his chest. “What kinds of things does it show you? Is it always pictures?”

“Um . . . yes, in a way.” Rey stretched a leg out and tangled it around his. “Images. Scenes. It’s like watching a holo but you’re inside it, too. You  _ feel _ it. I don’t think it actually happens to people a lot.”

“It probably isn’t the same, but something like that happened to me once.”

She cocked her head—this was new. “What do you mean?”

“A year ago. Well, a little more. You remember I told you about Alton Meyer?” Rey nodded. “I didn’t tell you about  _ why _ I helped him. Maybe it was selfish, that I had to be . . . convinced, but he showed me things. He had some sort of power, and if you looked into his eyes . . .”

His voice trailed and he looked almost as if he was experiencing the moment, whatever it had been, all over again. Then he blinked and cleared his throat. “I wish I could explain it to you. I’ve never been able to talk about it—if they knew I’d been involved in his escape I would’ve ended up in prison—but it never occurred to me that I wouldn’t be able to put it to words. It wasn’t the way you describe it. Not images, or anything.”

“Something right into your mind?”

“Yes. I wasn’t the only one. But— one woman said it was a feeling. A feeling of comfort. And I don’t know if what I felt was comfort, but it was  _ something, _ and it was enough. It convinced me. I don’t know if life has meaning, I don’t even believe in god, or any of that, I never really thought about it until then but it . . . changes you. How you see the world. That maybe there’s more out there than we understand. Because  _ that  _ I’ve seen. And I’m still not sure what it means.”

“I’ve been feeling that way more and more,” she admitted. “Trying to put it together myself. If it means something. Why the Force wants me to see these things. What it wants me to  _ do _ .”

He gave a dry laugh. “The old ‘why me’?”

“Right.” That was a question she had asked herself too many times to count and still hadn’t found the answer to. “I’m not sure. Except any time it’s happened, anytime I’ve had a vision, it’s been . . . tied to another person. Someone important to me.” 

_ Maybe to the entire galaxy. _

To her relief, Paul didn’t pry, though she wondered a little at the flash of understanding in his eyes.

“I’m still trying to figure a lot out about myself,” she went on. “Things that’ve happened to me lately . . . they must mean something, but every time I think I have it figured out, I’m wrong. It’s hard to keep believing that what I do matters, that  _ I _ matter, when— I don’t know. Maybe I don’t. Maybe I should never have left Jakku.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I— Yeah.” Rey shook her head, suddenly embarrassed by how much she had said. The thoughts and feelings had been roiling for a long time; she’d thought she could keep them under control. None of this was Paul’s problem. “It’s nothing.”

He clearly sensed her discomfort—his lips pressed together and his brow knitted as if he was thinking. “It’s not nothing,” he said carefully. “There’s a reason. I haven’t been very sure about a lot of things for the last year, but I am about this. About you.”

Rey exhaled a shaky breath and looked at him sharply. “Paul . . .”

“Oh. No, it’s not—” Paul’s gaze flickered over her face with concern, and he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “This won’t have to change anything,” he said after a few moments, “if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Rey’s brow crinkled with a small frown of surprise at how easily he saw through her. “What?”

“I—” He broke off like he might be doubting himself or what he’d been about to say, then stretched his fingers through her hair. “I just mean, I don’t want you to worry that I’ve forgotten what I promised you, or expect you to stay. Just because we . . .”

He trailed off and kriff, he was actually blushing a little. 

“I’m not worried,” she said. “Honestly, tonight’s been maybe the first time I  _ haven’t _ found myself wondering about how this all ends. How I get back. You know?”

“Yeah, I know. That makes sense. I mean—I’m glad.” He chuffed. “You have no fucking idea how glad. About all of it. I still want to help you get home, though. And I guess I haven’t been thinking very clearly since last night, when it comes to you. But if you’re okay with this, then—” 

“I’m okay with it. More than okay.” Paul looked as if he was about to try to argue or qualify, and she was in no mood for either, so she wound her fingers through his and kissed him gently on the lips. “Can I stay in here with you tonight?”

He looked surprised, and she felt a laugh rumble up through his chest before it breached his lips. “I was sort of planning on that.”

“Good.” She snuggled deeper down under the blanket and felt Paul watching her expectantly. “Something wrong?”

“No, I’m just wondering if you wanted something to eat before we turn in.”

Rey blinked. “I’m not  _ always _ hungry you know.” 

“Yeah, but I’m starving right now—want anything?”

“Um.” She laughed tiredly and shrugged. “Sure. Whatever you want, I guess.”

“Hang out here. I’ll be right back.” 

He leaned down to kiss her one more time, then pulled himself out of bed and wandered out toward the kitchen. She heard the excited scuffle of Como’s claws over the hardwood and Paul muttering something fondly to him as he went. While she waited, Rey got comfortable and let her eyes fall shut. She didn’t mean to fall asleep—really she hadn’t thought Paul would be gone that long and expected that, if she dozed, he would shake her out of it.

But suddenly she was no longer in his bed, his room, his apartment. She wasn’t even sure she was herself at all, or where she was. She was standing in a flat, open field. The sun was low in the sky. There were five slabs of pale stone in front of her—a central slab surrounded by four others arrayed at regular intervals, each with lines and lines of words carved into them. She couldn’t understand any of the languages, but the words were not what drew her eye. Her attention was drawn instead to a slot carved in one of the stones, almost a keyhole, through which the sunlight shone with perfect, peculiar brightness. 

Overhead, tracks of blue light scored the sky, and pebbles danced under her feet as if thrown by an earthquake. A round ship screamed by, hurtling through the clouds, and was suddenly gone. Her escape pod. The Force was everywhere, stronger than she had ever felt it since her crash, around her, calling her, leading her.

Her eyes shot open. The room was dark and cool, but she could still feel the heat in the air of the scene she just witnessed. She could feel the faint vibrations in her bones of the ship screaming past. She had no idea what to make of it, except that it felt important. Belatedly, she noticed the weight of something thrown over her—Paul’s arm was tucked around her middle. His chest was pressed to her back, his breath puffing slowly against her shoulder blades. Asleep and undisturbed. 

As her eyes adjusted, she saw a plate with a sandwich and a glass of water on the nightstand. She recognized the time on the clock. The sun would be rising soon. She would tell Paul about it when he woke.


	6. The Day Off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We would like to inform you all that the working chapter title for this one was called, The Fuck Awakens. 
> 
> **by we, I mean waffles, as in myself... but I'm sure the others would love to make this known**

 

When Rey woke up hours later, the bed felt rather empty. With her eyes still closed, she reached out for the spot next to hers. Cold. A disappointed grumble left her throat as she stretched out and rolled on her back.

Her bare chest exposed to the cool air of the room, she stared at the spinning fan fixed on the ceiling as she recalled the events of last night. Her lips pressed against Paul’s, her hands undressing him, his face disappearing between her thighs- it all came back in a rush, tugging at the corner of her mouth where a small, satisfied smile blossomed. Even though she was tempted to think it’d been a dream, she knew it wasn’t. No, what she’d experienced last night had been real. Real, and mind-blowing. Not even visions brought by the Force were that intense.

The Force. In a split second, her smile faded as she remembered her last vision. A part of her wished it’d been a dream, but the other knew it wasn’t; the tickling sensation that came with these experiences never lied, and she’d felt it more than ever since her crash. The Force had been trying to tell her something- what, she didn’t know exactly. None of those word carved in those stones had been familiar, and yet each of them had felt important enough that she’d memorized the visual. Paul would know.

A few more flashbacks from last night brushed her thoughts at the idea. She had to tell him; Paul had a right to know, and she needed his help. According to her growling stomach, she needed her fuel, too. Stretching out one more time, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and made her way to what resembled a wardrobe the most. Thankfully, this seemed to be something both galaxies had in common: the doors opened on a rather colorful row of those shirts Paul wore at work, all made of plain fabrics and buttons. Smiling, Rey chose a blue one and rolled the sleeves up until they reached a decent length. It wasn’t exactly long enough for her to wear it outside, but this would do for breakfast. Making sure she’d buttoned it down to her thighs, she made her way to the door and out of the room, instantly welcomed by bright natural light and the sweet smell of something familiar yet indescribable.

“Slept well?”

Bacon, she realized as her eyes met Paul’s. Hash browns, too- all blended in a large pan, sometimes turned over by the man currently smiling at her.

“Yeah.” Rey smiled back, and it took her a few seconds to hear her own words and correct herself. “Er- actually, no.”

Paul’s expression immediately shifted to confusion and something that looked quite close to guilt. If Rey could read minds, she bet what she would’ve found in his would-be concerns about their activities from last night. The way his eyes shifted to her bare legs confirmed her theory; but before he could say anything, she talked again. “I just- I had another vision.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” she confirmed.

Oh indeed. A silence settled between them, brief but heavy. Nodding, Paul turned a bacon piece just in time before it burnt and motioned for Rey to sit down as he placed a plate –full- in front of her. A series of footsteps echoed somewhere behind her, followed by the sound of clawed paws happily hitting the floor. Instinctively, she moved her plate away from the edge of the table and smiled as a humid nose came to rest on her lap along with a fluffy head and two wide, dark eyes staring at her with longing.

“Hey, you.”

Como’s eyes lighted up when the words crossed her lips, and his tail began to wiggle left and right. He’d always been very welcoming in the morning, but something in his uncertainty tingled Rey’s sense of guilt. He must’ve felt left behind the night before, with no idea why- and if he’d heard them… well, Rey would rather not think about that. Calmly, she ran her hand over his fur, apologizing silently for the brief abandon.

A few seconds passed before Paul finally joined her at the table, a plate in hand and a coffee pot in the other. Not without one last desperate attempt to charm her, Como left Rey’s side then nonchalantly trotted to the sofa. When the sound of his breathing began to lower, his owner put his cup down and cleared his throat.

“How was it? This vision?”

There was something in his voice, something way too calm for what the situation implied. Hours before, Rey had been impressed by the lack of strong reaction he’d had at her first revelation; but the composure Paul was showing right now was more than impressing. 

How could he be so serene about all of this? Even though they’d talked about it last night, Rey remained quite mad at—what, herself? The Force? Whatever had brought up here was to blame, but also to thank, and she hated it for giving her such conflicted feelings and complicating, well, everything.

But Paul was a smart man, who, unlike herself, knew how to deal with his emotions. Silent, he listened to her description without batting an eye. Just when Rey started wondering if he was listening, he grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and wrote down something she couldn’t see nor decipher, gesturing for her to keep going.

“The stones. What was written on it?”

There it was: the spark in his eyes whenever a challenged arose. She’d only seen it the night before when he’d taught her about his galaxy but already knew she would never be able to forget it.

“I don’t know, I think it was your language. I couldn’t read it.” For someone who’d spent most of her childhood learning about dialects on an old datapad, this felt insanely frustrating. “But… maybe I can…”

Carefully, Rey took the pen from Paul’s hand and attempted a rough outline of what she’d seen in her sleep: four long, high stones placed in a circle around another, covered by a sixth, all engraved with words that she illustrated as blurry lines.

“It does look familiar,” Paul commented pensively when he got the paperback. He seemed about to add something but stopped, and opened his mouth again. “I gotta make a call. I’ll be quick.”

Paul’s eyes didn’t leave his notes as he grabbed his phone and left the room, barely acknowledging Rey’s nod. Her eyes, though, did follow him. She’d had him to herself the entire night, and yet she couldn’t help checking on the parts of him he’d long concealed behind some grey sweatpants that would’ve taken Jakku by storm. Paul barely ever wore dark colors- ironic, when she knew how good it would look on him. Another wave of guilt, stronger this time, washed over Rey as she realized the material of her thoughts.

“Yes, Hox, sick.” Even though his effort to be discreet, Paul’s voice resonated from the corridor with an annoyed tone. “Just postpone the meeting, I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Indistinct, metallic words followed his from the other side of the line, and Rey couldn’t help smiling at the name she heard. Was Hox as odd as his name? He’d have to be because she’d never heard Paul raise his voice until now. Another series of technical terms she didn’t understand was exchanged before she heard the faint tune signaling the end of the call, and Paul’s footsteps approaching the kitchen, giving her just enough time to turn back to her plate and feign eating her now cold bacon.

“I called in sick,” Paul announced, then added as he noticed her confusion: “It means I’m staying here today.”

“You can do that?”

A small, incredulous and yet endearing smile crept on his lips. “Of course. I never do, but today- it’s special.”

From the way he looked at her, Rey wasn’t sure what kind of special he was talking about; but the sole fact that just a call had freed him of his responsibilities for an entire day was enough to distract her from his blossoming smirk. “You mean you can just… not go?”

She hadn’t had enough time with the Resistance to learn about their rules, but Rey was pretty sure nobody there ever stopped working. At least she never did; even when the sun burnt her skin the day she forgot her arm wraps, she continued her scavenging routine under Jakku’s ruthless sun. Her survival solely depended on herself, just like the Resistance. Wars didn’t take breaks.

“If I don’t feel good, yes.” Back in his chair, Paul then frowned at his notes from behind his glasses. “It’ll give us more time to figure out what… this means,” he added with a vague gesture.

A day off turned out to be better than what Rey had imagined. Even though they had a lot to do, it felt like time had stopped in the house, leaving them with hours ahead of them and way too many pop tarts Rey was more than happy to engulf one after the other.

Paul kept mumbling some incomprehensible words now and then, sometimes interrupted by Como for a lick on the hand to which he responded with an absent-minded stroke between the ears. Rey, on her side, had gone back to her patch-up work of fixing the lightsaber she was slowly beginning to consider hers. It’d had a few owners before, none of them she was related to- but it’d called her. A soft, continuous whisper dragging her towards its magnetic aura. She’d thought herself worthy of it the first time it’d flown into her hand, but her last attempt had her wonder if maybe bloodlines were indeed important with those things. Had she managed to join the Resistance, she would’ve asked the General.

“What’s your mother like?”

The question left her before she could realize, and seemed to surprise Paul just as much. She’d probably asked weirder things, though, because Paul quickly looked around him, completely abandoning the intricate outline he’d been working on for the past minutes. “I have a picture somewhere, hold on.”

Fumbling with the small leather bag that seldom left his pocket, he got a small piece of paper out of it and made it slide to the other side of the table, where Rey caught it with precaution.

“It’s a few years old, but so is she,” he stated at her eyes landed on the picture.

A small smile crossed his lips, pretty much similar to the one Rey noticed on the woman. Apart from the clothes and her brown hair, she looked exactly like General Organa, only a little less strict and a little younger. She did have the same deep brown eyes Rey had met days ago, but something in them was missing- probably the weight of wars.

“She’s beautiful,” she murmured after a moment. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting, or what this answer even meant, but she knew this was a piece of information she would keep to herself. Smiling softly, she slid the picture back to Paul’s side. “What about your father?”

A nervous twitch shadowed Paul’s smile this time, and Rey knew the answer before he even opened his mouth. “No pictures. No father, either- he died a few years ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok. We weren’t very close.”

It was a lie, but she didn’t bother asking for details. Regardless of galaxies, these two never seemed to get a good enough timing. At least Paul seemed in better terms with Leia, or whatever her name was on this planet. Rey almost asked, but remained quiet instead, focusing on retightening the bolt that closed the crystal’s compartment of her lightsaber. 

. . .

“What kind of job do you have, in space?” Paul finally asked after a long silence.

It was a basic question, but it seemed enough to get Rey’s eyes away from her weapon for a few seconds. 

“Um… well I guess my job is currently fighting,” she replied with hesitation. “Saving the galaxy. That kind of thing.”

“Oh, nothing crazy then.”

A small smile made its way to her lips this time, warming his heart on its way. “Nothing crazy,” she approved with a light chuckle.

There was more to it than fighting, he could see it in the way she diverted the conversation. There was always more to what she was willing to tell him, but Paul never dug deeper: he was curious, but she was secretive. Each little step they'd taken so far felt like stumbling towards some feral creature who, for some reason, hadn’t escaped yet. There was a wildness behind her eyes, some restraint in her sweet smiles that always confirmed his feeling, and somehow made him feel even luckier. Rey wasn’t some animal to be tamed, but he couldn’t help the pride from spreading over his chest at the sight of her grinning at him.

“Kriff!”

A buzzing sound accompanied Rey’s exclamation, immediately followed by an intense light that forced Paul to squint. A blue ray of light had appeared on the lightsaber where Rey’s eye was just seconds ago, and Paul was thankful he didn’t witness what would’ve been a traumatic scene right in the middle of his living room. In a vain attempt to protect his weak eyes from the intense beam, he placed a hand above them and cast another glance at the curious thing.

“That… is your weapon? This is what you use to save your galaxy?”

“Yes.”

The word left her in a murmur, testifying her surprise. Careful, she turned it between her fingers and the buzzing intensified. This had to be some advanced technology- something engineers wouldn’t be able to make until a few decades. A thousand questions appeared in Paul’s mind, none of them reaching the tip of his tongue fast enough to be spoken- How was the laser not going further? What was its source? Did it have a battery or had to be charged up?

“No wonder why you’re in war if everybody has one,” Paul murmured instead. “I would never stop using it either.”

Another sweet smile. Another chuckle. “It’s a little more complicated,” Rey whispered. “They’re kind of rare. Sort of… mythical.”

Before Paul could ask if this had anything to do with the Force, she got up and walked to the center of the room, swinging her weapon around. With each swing, Paul’s stomach tightened a little more, his fingers digging into Como’s fur who didn’t seem exactly comfortable either. “Wow, you might… want to take it outside.” The absurdity of what he just said hit him as soon as she started smiling. “Alright, maybe not-”

“Are you scared?”

This smile, now. Nothing to do with the shy one she’d displayed all morning: this one was amused, taunting, and very much like the ones he’d seen all night in between numerous kisses and giggles.

“It’s a weapon,” Paul pointed out.

“Come here.”

Despite his reluctance, Paul was up in breath- how was he supposed to refuse anything when she was looking at him like this? Still hesitant, he joined her in a few strides, hands concealed behind his back.

“Take it.”

Once again, he obeyed. Careful as ever, his hands wrapped around the cold metal handle and gripped it, probably tighter than necessary. It wasn’t as heavy as he’d expected, yet it undoubtedly weighted enough to be something important. The buzzing hadn’t stopped, making Paul’s hands vibrate slightly. It felt powerful- he felt powerful, though it might have something to do with the hands that were now covering his.

“You can switch it off whenever you want,” Rey explained calmly while gliding her arms from either way of his torso. Her presence behind him, despite being unusual, had something soothing that somehow stopped the trembling. “Now up,” she murmured in his ear.

Guided by her movements, Paul raised his arm a little, the lightsaber in front of him as a shield. Patient, Rey guided him through a few other motions, correcting his posture now and then. She was a good teacher, Paul realized when she showed him how to lock his left arm in a defensive stance- but he would never survive more than this one lesson. Having her hands on his body and seeing her like this- he was just a man, and the memories of her body shivering above him came rushing back in no time. Soon enough, his arms weren’t the only things that were up.

“One more time?”

Her whisper tickled his ear just enough for shivers to emerge on his neck, and Paul found it more and more difficult not to surrender to the overwhelming need to kiss her, touch her, and hear his name fall from her lips again. He could resist a little more; this was just her voice, they had a lot to do today and-

One of her hands slid to his hips, then to the rim of his jeans. This, she was doing on purpose.

“What-”

“Shh.”

Once, again, Paul didn’t protest. Slowly, Rey’s fingers made their way inside the jeans he’d changed into, one after the other, until her entire hand was behind the zipper she hadn’t even undone yet.

The lightsaber switched off just as she slipped her hand inside his boxers, and Paul honestly had no idea which of them did it. The only thing he acknowledged was the sound of the weapon hitting the floor, followed with a strangled moan that escaped his throat as Rey closed her fingers around his cock.

“You’re a fast learner.”

She didn’t have to speak so softly, yet she seemed to make a point of doing it- and this would be the end of him. Her other hand grazed his stomach before reaching down to unzip his jeans, and with it give her other hand more freedom.

“So are you,” Paul retorted with a shaky voice.

The answer seemed to please her: even though he couldn’t see her face, he did feel her smile against his skin just before she planted a kiss behind his ear. “I had a good teacher.”

In other circumstances, Paul would’ve argued that, but another moan left him as her hand moved up and down his length, the other ridding him off his underwear for good. She didn’t need a teacher; she was naturally gifted. One deep breath after the other, Paul let her work him up enough that he barely noticed his shirt had been unbuttoned. All he knew was that her hand looked perfect around him, and her kisses would soon produce enough shivers to make his skin explode with stimulation.

“Thanks for taking your day off.”

“Thanks for making it worth it.”

A light chuckle brushed the skin of his neck, contrasting with the humidity of her lips. For someone who’d lost her virginity the night before, Rey was rather assured in her movements. None of the women Paul had been with before had shown such eagerness. She wasn’t shy at all, and somehow that made even sexier.

Just as he felt his orgasm build inside of him, Paul heard the familiar sound of Como’s paws hit the floor around them, getting dangerously closer. Of course, this was the moment he’d chosen to come to check on them, maybe even ask to join this new game he’d never heard about. Before Paul could say anything, Rey’s hand moved abruptly and a weak yelp echoed behind them, followed by the sound of a shut door.

“This dog,” Paul whispered with fake exasperation. This earned him another chuckle, and a few more kisses on the shoulder. Rey’s hands, however, didn’t come back.

“Kiss me,” she asked after a few seconds.

She didn’t move when he turned around; just gave him the slightest grin as he bent a few inches to capture her lips with his. She tasted like orange juice and pop tarts, and something sort of unique that Paul decided to label as Rey. He hadn’t kissed her since the night before, and he didn’t know how he’d survived so long without doing so. Guided by her soft hands and his awakening body, Paul deepened the kiss, blindly following her through his living room.

They eventually ended up on his sofa, barely pulling away from their embrace. His clothes had long been abandoned on the floor, and hers- well, he was working on it. Seeing her in one of his shirts had had an insane effect on him, but taking it off of her… that was something else. Something a little more complicated than planned as he wasn’t used to undoing the buttons from this side; but after a few attempts and a little help, the shirt joined his jeans behind the kitchen’s counter, leaving Rey bare before him. And even though he’d learned her body by heart all night long, seeing it in the daylight somehow made the experience even better. 

“Hold on-”

Briefly breaking their embrace, Rey pushed him to the other side of the sofa then came back above, straddling him with a confidence that made Paul even harder. He’d always been a tall man; never violent, but if the situation called for it, he probably wouldn’t be in much danger. But Rey… Rey could kick his ass in a minute with her bare hands, and Paul found he wouldn’t mind at all. She wasn’t as tall as him, but she remained taller than most women he knew. She may be thin, but her arms and legs were strong enough to rival him would he decide not to let her above him- but given her current intentions, Paul didn’t plan on complaining. She could stay here as long as she wanted, her crotch brushing him with each of her swings, her fists tightening in his air, her mouth devouring his, her tongue- 

“Punch me.”

Paul’s eyes went wide as soon as he heard the words cross his lips. Damn, this was… unexpected. He’d never asked for it before, never even thought about it. Well, maybe once or twice- but this had never left the confinements of his imagination. Pulling away too, Rey searched for his eyes with curiosity. “For real?”

The correct answer should’ve been no. Damn, he’d never actually been into that, not that much. But then again, Rey seemed to have some strange power on him; a power that caused him to nod timidly. Here; he couldn’t deny it anymore. Smiling, Rey crooked her neck to kiss him again, making Paul’s heart accelerate dangerously. Maybe she was just too nice to voice her refusal. This was a nice refusal, though: one of her hands was still firmly tangled in his hair while the other ran up his chest, to his neck, to his-

A loud smack echoed in the room, heavy as the sting on his cheek.

“Oh, shit-”

“Kriff- sorry, you ok?”

Everything happened quickly: Paul’s hand left Rey’s waist to check on his cheek, hot and sensible. This was not how he thought this would feel, but he should’ve known. He’d even been lucky Rey hadn’t punched him as he’d asked but rather slapped. Trying his best not to grimace, Paul gave her a smirk through his gritted teeth.

“Yeah. I- well, turns out this sucks.”

“Sorry,” she repeated, this time with a smile. A nervous laugh left her as she tilted her head to kiss his cheek. “Anything else you wanted to try?”

Nothing in her voice indicated that she was serious, yet Paul bit her lips as another idea made its way to his probably deranged brain. It wasn’t as violent, but probably just as strange; and so he shook his head. Slightly too late, though.

“Really?” For someone who’d just slapped her first-ever partner, Rey looked rather enthusiastic- a bit too much.

“Nothing,” Paul hastened to assure. “It’s just- nothing.”

In a vain attempt to divert her attention, he buried his face in the crook of her neck and planted a kiss there; but Rey was way more stubborn than he was, and she didn’t flinch. “Tell me.”

Third. This was the third time in a day that Paul succumbed to her requests. Not before a brief sigh, he pulled away from her and motioned vaguely to the door behind which Como had been locked, surprisingly silent. “Do you think you can do it, but… with us?”

“While we…?”

“Yes.”

This was probably more surprising than asking to be punched, but also way more interesting. He would be lying if he denied how many questions had crossed his mind since Rey had revealed her special abilities. Even as a scientific, Paul had always been a firm believer that there were still many things to discover about the human brain- maybe this was one of them. Or maybe Rey wasn’t human; but from what he’d seen, she looked like one. The thought reminded him of how very much naked she was, and he absent-mindedly stroked her side with the back of a finger, reveling in the softness of her sun-kissed skin.

“Let’s find out.”

The experience turned out to be a rather amusing one, but insanely unpractical. In their four attempts, Paul missed her twice, then lost his grip on her once, resulting in the two of them having to hold on to the other until no movement was feasible, except for their lips moving against the other.

“It’s like I’m a magnet or something,” Paul pointed out as she pulled him back to her.

They were barely floating more than five inches above the sofa, but this was enough to impress Paul. Even though he had no idea what controlling this felt like, this had to be exhausting, because Rey only let out a weak chuckle as she guided them both back on the sofa, still interlaced together.

“Can we continue, now?” she asked when they landed safely. “Just like last night?”

With the same sensation he always had after leaving a plane, Paul waited for his body to get accustomed to its former surrounding then cupped her face in his palm. “Sure.” She’d always had control; she knew how to, and he liked it. But just this once, Paul pulled Rey towards him and crushed his lips against hers. “Let’s.”

Her mouth moved along his for a few seconds before this strange magnetic sensation seized Paul again. It pushed him against the pillows and held him down as Rey climbed onto his lap, her thighs on either side of his hips as she looked down on him with a mischievous grin.

. . .

In all the stories they’d watched on the holoneflix, there’d always been some scenes with a lover ruminating after an intimate moment. Rey had never understood their utility until she found herself in that same position.

She didn’t exactly remember how they’d ended up in this room –her room. All she knew was the sun’s light was bright enough to betray how long they’d spent lost in each other. Somehow they’d managed to make the night look pale in comparison to this morning: they’d both shown more confidence now that all awkwardness had passed, and more endurance too.

A brief wave of tiredness washed over Rey as she looked at Paul’s lying figure. The soft heaves of his chest almost lulled her to sleep hadn’t she been busy scrutinizing each curve of his body. He was well-built, even for someone who fed himself off waffles and take-outs. Not as strong as the men she sometimes crossed paths on Jakku, but she’d felt his arms around her: Paul could easily win a fight if he wanted to, though she had doubts about his feelings towards this. Slowly, her eyes diverted to his shoulders and helplessly wandered around the dark cloud that was his hair. It looked soft- it was soft. She hadn’t been able to resist the urge to run her fingers through it and found herself rather happy she’d surrendered.

Once again, the uneasy feeling she’d noticed before seized her. She’d had this desire before, long before she met Paul, in the confinement of a hut, lost on an island somewhere in the Outer Rim of her galaxy. She’d surrendered there, too, with just the touch of a hand. A hand that was way too similar to the one currently tracing circles on her arm. Her stomach tightened.

“Rey? You ok?”

She hadn’t noticed the tears streaming down her eyes. With cautious, delicate movements, Paul’s hand left her arm to caress her wet cheeks. 

“Yeah,” she murmured as he kept cleaning her face. “There’s just- someone that I miss very much.” Guilt instantly seized her as she realized what she’d just said. She missed Finn, too. And Leia. “Several people, actually,” she corrected herself. “But one of them needs me. You… kind of remind me of him.”

A long silence followed her declaration, which she took as an opportunity to let a few more tears drip down.

“I knew there was someone else,” Paul murmured after a moment, and her heart made a loop in her chest. He should’ve been angry, or at least bitter; but once again, Paul proved what an unexpected, patient man he was.

“No,” she retorted with a weak shake of her head, “it’s… not like that.”

“Not yet.”

His voice was too soft for what he was currently saying. It was too confident, too. Biting her lips, Rey looked up, only to meet his warm eyes already looking at her with understanding. He didn’t add anything, but the small smile on his lips betrayed his thoughts. Sometimes she hated him for being so clever.

Part of her wanted to sigh with relief and confide in Paul about everything. Her doubts, her fears; a deeper part of her even wanted to mention the force bonds and what had occurred on the Supremacy before… all of this. Before what had happened with Ben. She wanted to tell him how much they looked alike but stopped herself right before doing so. Paul was… different. Sure, they looked identical, but they weren’t the same person. Ben was unique, and so was Paul.

And somehow, she’d managed to get attached to both of them.

“I think right now I’m the only person who could help him.”

“Then you should. And I think you could do that. You sound like you’re good at helping people.”

A sad smile appeared in the corner of her lips. “I tried. He… it’s complicated.”

“Give him time.”

This was not something she’d seen in those romantic scenes she’d pictured earlier. The male lead was usually jealous, if not arrogant. He should’ve asked about this someone else, argued about the night before and ask about her feelings before storming out. But Paul wasn’t like that; he hadn’t even flinched at the mention of another person. His hand hadn’t stopped stroking her cheek, and here he was, giving her some advice she knew to be wise.

“I wish I’d never met you,” Rey murmured sheepishly, “because leaving is going to be very difficult.”

She didn’t look up this time; the way his hand stopped moving said enough. A new wave of tears rolled down her face as she visualized herself walking away from his blurry figure. Paul’s hand immediately went back to its gentle movements, slowing down her breathing.

“Rey- you said something, last night when you told me about your vision. You said home.”

He was right again, and something warmed up inside of her. She didn’t remember saying that, and the simple fact that she didn’t- well, it had to mean something. Maybe she’d finally found what she’d been waiting for years. Jakku wasn’t home, Ahch-To wasn’t home, and this planet, as interesting as it was, wasn’t home- home was what she’d found and now considered worth fighting for. Worth going back.

“We’re going to understand this vision you had,” Paul added calmly. “Then we’re going to send you back home, and you’re going to save your damn galaxy. But in the meantime, we’re going to enjoy our days together.”

A faint giggle crossed her lips, wet and salty from her tears. They did have an expiration date, but Paul was right: they might as well make the most of the time they had left, be in hours or days. Rey decided she’d rather have weeks, but opted for a simple nod as she gripped Paul’s arm and pulled him in for a long, wet kiss.

Though they’d already spent most of the day in bed--the sun was practically setting for fuck’s sake--Rey allowed herself to kiss him fiercely, gripping his well-muscled arm as his tongue ran along the line of her lower lip. 

As he did that, she thought about the other things he’d done with his tongue. That thing he’d done between her legs had driven her wild, calling to mind something she’d seen--but not understood--in a holo once. She felt herself growing wet again just at the thought of his face between her thighs, making her come apart in ways her own hands--or even his cock--had never been able to do. 

Somehow, she wanted to reciprocate what he’d done to her, but in spite of all the things they’d done together over the past day, she was still fairly inexperienced. Paul always seemed down for whatever she wanted to do, though, and he’d guided her through so much already, taking charge until she understood what was going on, and letting her have control once she got it. He’d probably be able to help her through what she had in mind, wouldn’t he?

Swallowing nervously, Rey moved the hand on his arm to his chest and pushed him back gently to break the kiss. Confusion and concern filled his face as he looked down at her. “Are you okay? Did you--Did you have another vision?”

 _Damn,_ he sounded so concerned, so genuinely worried that something was wrong. Leaving him behind was going to hurt. Yes, she loved Ben, and she missed him--even with how they’d ended things--and wanted to see Finn and Leia and that stupidly cute droid she’d met on Jakku, but she knew she would miss Paul when she left him. He was sweet, and kind, and represented everything good in the universe. 

Shaking that thought from her mind, Rey began to trace circles in the skin of his chest as she laughed off his worries. “No, I’m fine, I just… I was--um--thinking about what you did for me last night when we got back from the planetarium. I-I wanted to know if y-you wouldn’t mind me doing the same thing.”

Paul stared at her in confusion for a second, then realization dawned on him and his eyes went wide. “W-wait, you want to--?”

“Suck your cock, yes,” she replied, finishing his sentence a touch too quickly. “I wanted to return the favor you did for me.”

“Rey, that was no favor, I promise you, I enjoyed it about as much as you did.”

“Well, I still want to see you lose yourself because of me…” Her hand began to trail down the skin of his chest. “The way I lost myself because of you.”

His breath hitched in response, causing a sense of pride to swell within her as she watched his cheeks flush. A little cluster of his hair fell into his face as he looked down, making him look sort of boyish and shy, which she found rather endearing. “Rey, I’d-I’d love that, but are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” she said, then she pushed on his shoulder, rolling him back into the mattress as she climbed on top of him, and took his face in her hands while she straddled his hips. “Paul, we don’t know how much time we’ve got left, we’ve always known it was going to be short. We need to make the most of it.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” he replied, then she was kissing him again, pressing him into the mattress as he wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her close, causing her brain to spin from lack of oxygen. 

In their brief, but intense time together, Rey had learned a lot from Paul. She’d learned they both liked having their necks kissed, both liked having teeth graze over a mark they’d created. They particularly liked it when it led to something else, and the corners of her mouth tilted up into the kiss before she slowly began to press her kisses against his neck instead. 

Paul gave her a deep, throaty laugh, which vibrated against her lips as her kisses slowly wandered down onto his chest. “I might die,” he warned her. “This might kill me.”

Rey didn’t even pause. “Worth it.” Then she continued her descent, taking his cock in one hand as she crawled back over him, stroking it lazily on her way down. If she felt nervous, the petty sort of delight she felt from each tiny noise that left his mouth in response to her actions concealed it perfectly. 

The man she was in bed with was steadily losing control of himself, and she’d only just begun. 

Those nerves humming through her veins slowly began to crackle with electricity as she got closer and closer to his erection. _Don’t be afraid,_ she told herself, repeating it like a mantra as she finally slowed the motions of her hand, and pressed one last kiss to his upper thigh. This was someone she trusted, someone she thought with time could grow to be more than just whatever the hell they were. 

She could do this. 

Taking in one last, nervous breath, Rey finally licked at the tip of his cock, feeling arousal rush through her at the sound of the moan he gave her in response. His head fell back against the pillow, giving her the confidence she needed to keep going. 

Feeling brave, Rey slowly took him into her mouth. Whatever thoughts she’d had about such an act before she’d started doing this vanished instantly. It wasn’t the easiest thing she’d ever done, but it was not as hard as she thought. After she reached a certain point, she knew she wouldn’t be able to go down further. Paul’s cock was just a touch too large for her to take it to the hilt, but he still seemed to love what she was doing. 

The moan he gave her when her cheeks hollowed, and she began to properly suck his cock, cautiously moving her head up and down as her hand continued to stroke his base. Breathless swears escaped him as he finally propped up his head on his arm, watching her intently as she moved. 

She hummed her laughter against him, causing his breath to tremble as a hand slowly threaded its way into her hair. Chills ran down her spine as his fingers grazed her scalp, making her wonder just what he was feeling as she went down again, taking him a little deeper this time as she called to mind how it had felt when he’d done the same to her. 

When she closed her eyes, she could remember when she was in the same position, with him between her legs, her hand in his hair, and his tongue inches deep in her pussy. Did he feel that same way right now? Did he feel like he was standing on a precipice as she did?

Had she brought him that same euphoria he’d brought her? 

“Just like that, Rey,” he whispered, and the fingers on her scalp tugged gently at her hair, just like hers had when he’d gone down on her. Somehow she found the feeling almost as pleasant as the one she’d gotten when she’d had his mouth on her, making her feel as if she was the one whose heart was pumping fire through her veins as she sucked his cock with renewed vigor. 

Paul was slowly losing it as time passed. His occasional swears tended to be audible only up to the first syllable, the end consonants of each word he spoke never quite making themselves known as he began to babble incoherently. 

Each sound that passed his lips spurred her to keep going, and her initial fear at her inexperience disappeared as confidence finally took over. She eventually picked up her pace, barely pausing to breathe as his babbles became less and less intelligible, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before he—

“R-Rey,” he breathed, her name being his first coherent word in what felt like forever. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna come.”

All she gave him in response was a soft hum, then she heard him make a noise like a choked sob, and he came into her mouth. She almost smiled around him as she continued her ministrations through his orgasm, holding down one of his hips with her free hand as she began to slow down. That smile made itself known as she locked eyes with him, and watched his face when she swallowed once he was completely spent. 

It felt like she held all the power in the world by the time finally removed her mouth from his cock. 

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed as his head fell back against the pillow once more, causing her to laugh as she crawled back over him, and rested her hands on his chest. 

“Who is that?”

“Jesus? Um… he’s a religious figure, pretty…” _pant. “_...Pretty big around here… kind of like those uh…” _pant. “_ Jedi… people… you told me about.”

“Oh, okay.”

“ _Fuck…”_ he breathed, closing his eyes as his head tilted further back into the pillow. 

“Was I… was it um, was it good?”

Paul was still panting hard as he took her hands in his, and looked at her like she was the eighth wonder of the world. “Rey…” _pant. “_ You…” _pant. “_ Were…” _pant._ “Fantastic.”

Relief flooded her as she collapsed on top of him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she pressed kisses to the side of it. “Oh, thank fuck,” she whispered. “I was nervous. I’d never…”

“I know,” he replied, then she pulled back, and he cupped her face in both hands. “But you seem to be a quick learner.”

“When you grow up the way I did, you learn to adapt faster than everyone around you.” She looked away from him then, feeling sadness wash over her. 

The man beneath her shook his head, then she felt his hands running through her hair as he sighed. “You deserve so much more than what you’ve had.” His chest shuddered beneath her as he looked up, and brushed another strand of her hair out of her face. “Rey, when you get back home, just promise me you’ll find a good life. When that war you’re fighting is over, go find a home for yourself, whether that’s a person or a place, and… and let the past—“

“Die?” she asked nervously, remembering the last time she’d heard that sentence. A man with Paul’s face had stretched his hand out toward her and asked her to join him, and _oh god_ , had she wanted to. 

“No, just let it stay in the past. Don’t look back.” He leaned up and pressed a kiss to her lips before she rolled off of him, and cuddled up to his side. “Rey, I haven’t known you for very long, but I know enough to realize that you deserve the whole damn galaxy.”

 _Kriff,_ he was truly perfect, wasn’t he? Rey was starting to feel like the heroine in one of the romantic comedies they’d watched together who abandoned her perfectly good and sweet—though Paul wasn’t boring like those men—boyfriend for the douchey bad boy just because the “bad boy,” said he loved her and looked good in a leather jacket. Ben wasn’t a douche, but he had just chosen the dark side over her—or it had seemed like he did, she hadn’t quite let him make up his mind before she left, had she?—and therefore in this situation, he fit the metaphor. 

Bringing herself back to reality, she gave him the tiniest twitch of her lips and nodded. “Yeah, I will, but… you do the same, alright?”

“I will,” he promised her, then he rolled onto his side, and pulled the sheets over them both. “We should get some sleep, we’ve gotta get back to work in the morning.”

“So soon?”

“Rey, I like having you here, but the longer you stay the harder it’s going to be to watch you leave.”

Something about those words had her trembling in his arms as they wrapped around her, and he kissed the top of her head. Was Paul falling for her? Genuinely, honest to the god he kept talking about, falling in love with her? They shared an attraction, and she certainly felt a pull to him that if she weren’t ever able to return home could certainly become love, but it couldn’t. She had a duty to the people she’d stolen away on the Millennium Falcon with. To the Resistance. 

But Paul, he couldn’t follow her there. He had a duty here, and she didn’t know what she’d do if she wound up taking him with her. When they found her ship, when she got to wherever the place she’d seen in her vision was, they were going their separate ways, and this would be nothing but a beautiful memory. 

“Goodnight,” she whispered to him, not quite hearing what he said in response as she closed her eyes, and quickly began to fall asleep.

That night, Rey had a suspicious lack of dreams. 

...

Paul woke up in the middle of the night a few hours later, and the moment his eyes opened, he knew he wasn’t falling back asleep. For what felt like an eternity, he laid there staring up at the ceiling, trying desperately to understand the vision Rey has told him about. 

 _Stones with weird markings,_ she’d said. Four stones. One on top. Weird markings. 

Why did that sound so familiar?

Feeling certain he was on the precipice of a great discovery, Paul took note of his position. He was going to be able to get away from Rey if he tried. One arm was wrapped around her, and the other was resting over his chest, feeling his heartbeat as it went steadily on. 

He took in a deep breath, and pushed himself up into a sitting position, then crawled off of the bed as carefully as he could manage. Somehow he managed to be equally quiet as he grabbed his pants off the floor, and pulled them on, not bothering to put on his underwear first. He didn’t have time to find those. 

Opening the bedroom door after that gave him a heart attack, but he somehow pulled that off, too. He made it all the way to closing the door, and turning around to go to his bedroom before he made a sound, but then he heard the sound of paw prints and an excited whine, and lo and behold, Comossus was sitting at his feet waiting patiently to be pet. 

“Shit,” he whispered to himself, then he bent down to scratch his dog’s head. “I’m so sorry, Como, but I need you to keep quiet. I’ve got something to do.”

His dog gave him a whine of what he would swear was disapproval—assuming somehow, Como had understood him, if multi-verse travel was possible, talking dogs surely could be—as he made his way toward his bedroom, and opened the door as quietly as he possibly could. Sure, Rey probably wouldn’t be able to hear him, but that wasn’t a risk he was comfortable taking. 

She deserved to sleep if he couldn’t. 

Once his bedroom door was closed, Paul crossed the room to grab his laptop, not pausing for so much as one second as he opened it up, and immediately clicked on the little Google Chrome icon. “Fuck, what do I type?” he asked himself, then he shook his head, and began to type random words Rey had told him. 

“Four stones, weird markings,” he typed, but all that gave him was a bunch of witchcraft and crystal healing stuff he knew wouldn’t be relevant to Rey. 

“Four big slabs of stone with weird markings.” Nothing. More crystal healing. More stuff that wouldn’t help Rey. 

He kept trying variations of those words. Nothing seemed to be working, though, and as time passed, he felt more and more confused and frustrated. Eventually, he wound up at a webpage advertising tourism for Stonehenge, and suddenly it hit him. 

The stones in Rey’s vision weren’t Stonehenge, but they were another tourist attraction much, much closer to home. 

 _Georgia guide stones_ was the next thing he typed into the search engine, and finally, he saw something that looked almost exactly like what Rey had described. Four stones, weird markings, the fifth stone on top of it, surrounded by green grass and blue skies. 

He pumped a fist in the air, barely able to hold himself back from screaming a, “yes!” of victory as he shut the laptop screen, and finally, finally got up to return to bed with Rey. Once again he plowed past his poor, neglected german shepherd--though to his credit he did let the dog into the bedroom first--and made his way quickly back into the bed.

Rey stirred briefly as he--then Como about two seconds later--crawled into the bed, and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close against him as he laid his head back into the pillow. His dog curled up at their feet, resting his head on Paul’s calf with a half-hearted growl as they both settled into position, and closed their eyes against the oncoming dawn. 

The day may have been starting with the rise of the sun, but Paul was going to put it off for a little bit longer. He was going to enjoy what might be his last peaceful moments with Rey. 


	7. Saying Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out this art DaisyFlo commissioned from boomdafunk for chapter four’s [Planetarium scene](https://twitter.com/thisgarbagepic1/status/1158821264276021248?s=21)

 

 

Her hair was in his face when he woke up the next morning, causing Paul to smile even as he nearly choked on it as he buried his face in the back of her neck. A soft moan escaped him as his arms flexed around her waist, and he felt her sigh contentedly even though she was still sound asleep. 

It was the most serene he’d felt in ages, and yet it was underlain by a current of sadness. Soon Rey would be leaving him to return to her galaxy and fight a war she stood a chance of not winning. She’d get on her ship, and take off for the stars, never looking back unless he got extremely lucky. 

And he had doubts about his luck, so he held her close, wondering how many chances he had left to just breathe her in. Not many, he knew for certain, and maybe that was a good thing, because he had a bad feeling he was starting to genuinely fall in love with her. She’d only been with him for a few weeks now, but already they’d bonded more than he ever had with any other human being. He already felt connected to her on a deep, spiritual level, and if she were to stay…

Rey was the first person he’d ever accidentally started day dreaming about having a life with. He could see them and Como moving to a nice house with a mortgage and adopting another dog to complete their family. Neighborhood barbecues, late nights dancing to music, and thousands of date ideas wandered into his mind, but he knew none of them could ever be. 

She was also in love with someone else—or at least, to his understanding, she cared for him very deeply—and this she would never fall for him the way he was falling for her. The thing between them was beautiful, but there was a difference, Paul knew, between the love of one’s life, and their soulmate. 

By a cruel twist of fate, he’d probably met the former, but she would never become the latter. 

Paul blinked, then shook his head from surprise when he realized a tear had rolled onto his cheek. _God_ , what was the matter with him? He needed to get himself under control. Rey was leaving. That was going to be that, and he needed to stop grieving before she’d even known she was going to leave him. 

Letting out a shaky exhale, he leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to the base of her neck, feeling her stir beside him as she gave a delighted hum. “Good morning,” she whispered, but didn’t turn around to face him just yet. Instead, she laid a hand over his, and the two of them laced their fingers together. “You sleep okay?”

“Perfect,” he replied, then he frowned. “Why do you ask?”

He could hear the sound of her swallowing, then she did turn her head ever so slightly in his direction, allowing him a glimpse of her hazel eyes. “Because I heard you get up and leave at an ungodly hour this morning. I was too tired to ask you where you were going, but I heard you leave. What happened?”

At this, he froze, unsure of how to proceed from there. He wasn’t ready to talk about this yet. All he wanted was just a few more minutes or preferably hours to prepare himself to give her the news that he knew where they had to go. But holding it back from her would be just as cruel, wouldn’t it? He couldn’t keep her here, this wasn’t her home. 

There was no choice for him but to tell her. 

“I was trying to figure out where the stones you mentioned in your vision are,” he told her, swallowing nervously as he gathered up the courage to explain what he’d found. “I had this hunch, and I followed it.”

In front of him, Rey tensed, as if she too wasn’t ready to hear this news. “What did you find?” But she asked the question anyway. 

“The Georgia guidestones,” he said softly. “They’re these weird rocks in the middle of the state that match what you described in your vision to a tee. I think somehow… they’re connected to whatever wormhole brought you here.”

Both of them paused for a second after he spoke, and Rey’s hand gripped his almost a bit too tightly for comfort. An eternity must’ve passed as she thought over what he was saying, and eventually, she brought their joined hands to her lips, and kissed his knuckles. “Then it’s almost time for me to go.”

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice almost breaking as he just barely managed to contain himself. “I-I-“ _Deep breath._ “I’m gonna miss you when you go. The last couple of weeks have been…” _Wonderful, life-changing, awe-inspiring, earth-shattering, and god won’t you please stay—_ “Really nice.”

A weak chuckle left her lips. “I’m gonna miss you, too.” She turned over then, just enough so that he could see her entire face as she looked upon his, her eyes falling down to his lips. “This whole experience could’ve been terrifying. I might’ve gotten captured and never been allowed to return home, but you-you saw a stranger crash, and without even knowing I could speak your language, you rescued me and took me in.” She leaned in, and gave him the world’s shortest kiss, her lips barely brushing against his. “Thank you, for everything.”

“I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.”

“I know you would.” Then she kissed him thoroughly, causing him to gasp sharply when she briefly pulled away to adjust her position, then she went back in with the same fervor as before, starving his lungs of the sweet oxygen they craved. 

Paul slowly let go of her hand, allowing her to turn around properly, and roll on top of him as they kissed. It felt like her lips fit against his perfectly, and even though she’d never kissed anyone the first night he’d asked to kiss her, she’d fallen into him with ease. Both of them were stolen away by every kiss they shared, and when this was over, it was the simplicity of it that he was going to miss the most. 

He was certain he would yearn for the simple pleasure of having her lips against his for years to come when this was over. 

A moan escaped her into the kiss as Paul’s hands began to tangle in the hair that had been choking him when he’d first woken up. The sound cemented itself in his memory, making him aware that it was going to become something he thought about for a long time. 

Part of him wanted to stay like this forever, to roll them over and just make love to her until the sun set—or possibly forever—but he couldn’t do that right now. Maybe he could later, but until they figured out a plan for what they’d do next, Paul couldn’t let himself think about how it felt when she came around his cock.  

Even if it almost wounded him to do so. 

After a while, he pulled away, and groaned as he pressed his forehead against hers. It really wasn’t fair, was it? They’d gotten so close over these last few weeks, and he’d let himself fucking fall for her even though he _knew_ she’d be leaving him. Regret should have filled him then, shouldn’t it? He should’ve felt ashamed, embarrassed, saddened, but as he laid there with her, just breathing in the warm, morning air, he found he couldn’t regret a minute of it. 

All he’d done was make beautiful memories he’d carry with him for a long time after she was gone. What was there to regret about that?

“We need to get planning,” he whispered after a while. “I need to get you home.”

She fell silent, then he would swear he heard her whisper back, “I don’t even know where home is.” 

His heart broke a little in his chest, but he just leaned forward to kiss her one more time before he pulled her into a hug. “God, I’m really gonna miss you.”

“I’m not going anywhere just yet,” she replied, then she pulled back to brush a strand of his hair from his eyes. “Don’t mourn me before I’m gone.”

“Yes ma’am,” he teased, then she slowly rolled off of him, and began to search around the room for her clothes, giving him a grand view of her naked body as she began to walk about the room. “What are you doing?”

“Finding my clothes, cause I’m hungry, and…” She shrugged. “I want to eat all the Waffle House I can while I still have the chance.”

Those words made Paul pause, then he felt tears spring to his eyes as he erupted with helpless laughter, his entire body shaking as he rolled over in the bed, and got up to join her. 

“What?” Rey asked, looking bewildered as he handed her the clothes he found on the floor. 

“Nothing,” he replied, walking over to press a kiss to her forehead as she took her t-shirt from him. “You’re just—you’re wonderful, you know that?”

Rey hummed contentedly, then she gave him a nod, and began to put her clothes on, much to his disappointment. “You’re wonderful, too,” she said once she was fully dressed—or at least, dressed enough for Waffle House—then she took his face in her hands, and planted another kiss on his lips. “Now get me some waffles, I’m starving.”

Another chuckle left him as he grabbed a shirt off a nearby chair, and threw it over his head before they made their way through the apartment. As he grabbed his wallet on the way out, he knew that whatever happened over the next few days was probably going to destroy him completely, but he was also ready for it. 

When Rey left, he’d be heartbroken, but like with all things, the wound would heal with the passage of time. 

  
  
  


-

 

It wasn’t until early that evening that they were back in Paul’s apartment and preparing to see what they could find out about the nature of Rey’s potential departure. She wished the vision (or dream, or whatever it was) had been a little more specific. But then they never were, were they? Even she could only do so much with fragments. And although Paul had discerned the identity of the place she had seen—had even been able to show her on a map exactly where this supposed “Guidestones” was in relation to Atlanta—they still didn’t know why it was important or when she needed to be there.

Which was how it came to be them, as it so often was, sitting on his couch with dinner spread out on the coffee table.They were doing a different take-out place every night now, so she could try as many new things as possible. Between bites of crispy egg rolls and a savory noodle dish Paul called pad thai, they hunched over his laptop to flounder through some more research. For Rey, it was all rather frustrating. The opportunity to learn about something so particular to this small portion of the planet was exciting, but the stakes were too high for her to enjoy it as she might have. It was the sort of puzzle that stood to permanently alter the course of her life if she couldn’t figure it out in time.

Yet the prospect of being stuck here no longer filled her with dread as it had only a week or so ago. If she _did_ end up stranded on Earth . . . it was a beautiful world. And she wouldn’t be alone. She would have Paul. She could make things work for herself here, she bet. Making a new life out of the broken pieces of your old one wasn’t so hard once you’d done it a few times. It was probably even easier with someone at your back.

But Rey wasn’t sure she had that in her, and she wasn’t convinced it was right, either. She might always regret what she’d lost; she might never stop missing her own galaxy and the people she’d left there.

“Christ.” The sound of Paul snorting derisively through a mouthful of spicy soup snapped her out of her reverie. “Most of this stuff all ends up boiling down to conspiracy theory nonsense.”

“How do you mean?”

“Um . . .” He angled the display a bit toward her and settled back into the couch with another chuckle. “Lots of groups suggesting the Guidestones have malicious religious implications. Or the involvement of extraterrestrials—though I guess maybe that’s not so far off, if it’s important to getting you home.”

“Hah hah.”

_“_ It’s just sort of a shame, because the stones themselves are fascinating, and it all gets lost in the mumbo jumbo about occultism and the end times.”

Rey barked a dry laugh. “End of what?”

“The world. Riots. Disasters. End of society as we know it. Planetary collapse,” Paul said with a skeptical tone. “Except people go on about this stuff all the time, and yet here I am. Here you are. Earth’s still around, despite humanity’s best efforts to fuck it up.”

“I’ve seen planets die. Several at once. It’s horrible.” She set her jaw and stared at the edge of the table. “I don’t think it’s the sort of thing people can predict. Not like that.”

“Oh. Well. Yeah, on that we agree.” He gave her one of those careful looks he sometimes saved for a solemn moment, when he wasn’t quite sure what to say, then smiled a little and offered her the last eggroll. “Sorry, not exactly pleasant dinner conversation. Eat this, I’m good.”

She distractedly accepted his offering and scarfed half of it down before setting the rest down on her plate. “So conspiracies aside, is there anything special about this thing?”

“Getting to that—and yeah, maybe.” Paul paused importantly, hands splayed on his knees. “Ley lines.”

“What lines?”

“It’s a stretch. I like to think I have a more open mind these days, but even for me some of this stuff is a bit too . . . ‘Ancient Aliens’ for my taste.” At the bemused look she shot him, he waved a hand. “Um, esoteric.” 

Rey chuckled quietly. “Got it.”

“ _But_. The Guidestones are said by some to be built over a meeting of something called ley lines, which are supposed to be . . . hm. Paths of concentrated spiritual energy. They circle the globe, invisible to the eye, influencing the world we see.”

He was speaking so carefully—she could sense his natural skepticism, but also his desire to believe the fantastic was possible. Such was the contradiction of the life he had been living recently, she supposed. She and Paul really were the same that way.

“Sort of like the Force,” she cut in, spurred by the reminder of their common ground. Memories of her time on Ahch-To came flooding back too, and of the unprecedented, infuriating, thrilling connection the Force had forged between her and Ben. “I think—well, I’ve noticed, anyway—that there are places in the galaxy where it’s easier to feel the Force. How it draws things together. You can reach out into it and feel it reaching back. It’s stronger there, like little pockets of it gathered up.”

He nodded, one hand reaching up to idly rub his cheekbone, then the back of his neck. “It could be the same sort of thing. If the Force is how people from your galaxy rationalize a spiritual presence. The same energy could exist anywhere, by different names. Paths of connection.”

“Right. Paths of connection.” 

Did those paths still exist now, tying her to home? The notion that they might, even here, made her feel lightheaded with the sheer possibility of it all. That even while she was here, there was a way in which she had never really been gone.

“I had a sense of the Force in my vision. I thought it was the Force, at least. _Really_ , really strong, all concentrated on that one spot. Like it was calling me. I just didn’t know how to follow.”

“That’s actually . . . all right, look. Last year, while the mess with Alton was being resolved, we continued to collect information from the involved parties. A lot of it was disregarded as lies or superstition—officially, anyway—but there was one thing that stood out to me. I’d probably have written it off, too, if I hadn’t already seen what I had, but . . .”

 Paul’s voice faded, then he cleared his throat and continued. 

“It was a map of the United States overlain with a network of ley lines. The man who made it had marked a handful of vergences where several lines cross and augment each other.”

“Like my Force pockets.”

“I think so, yeah. Points of particularly high concentrations of that same energy. He thought they had something to do with the coordinates Alton had identified during his episodes.”

“And he was right, wasn’t he?”

“Yes. One of those vergences occurs at the exact coordinates where thousands of people were given a glimpse into another plane of existence last March—right where Alton needed to be to get home. There were more vergences marked on that map that corresponded to Alton’s other coordinates. Places I’ve _been_ over the last year, looking for any sign of a repeat incident. I’d be willing to put money down that if I cross-referenced the Guidestones with that map, I’d find they were built over another vergence of ley lines. Just like the one from a year ago.”

“And if a spot like that was where he needed to be to get home . . . where something _opened_ to allow him to pass through, or be taken back, or whatever . . . that could be how I get back. A rift between my galaxy and yours.” Stunned, Rey blinked down at the edge of the coffee table, then uttered a short laugh. Paul’s eyes were sharp with excited understanding as they searched hers, his lips twitching with dozens of words fighting to form at once. “It is, isn’t it?”

“It could be. And if we have a place, we just need a date.”  

“And a ship,” she reminded him with a dry look. “Sort of crucial.”

Paul’s browed twitched, and he nodded sharply. “Right, yeah. That too. I’m still processing the rest of this, let’s maybe leave that practicality aside for an hour or so.” 

“Hm. And you know it's still out there someplace, at least. I’m the one having visions that never seem to include a calendar.”

“Maybe we don’t need one.” He turned to look at her, one leg bent up onto the couch. “The monument already tracks the movement of the sun.”

Rey was silent a moment as his meaning hit her. “It’s a solar calendar.”

“How well can you recall what you saw, exactly? Even seemingly insignificant details. Ambient sounds. The weather. Was anyone else there?”

“Mm.” She popped the rest of the egg roll into her mouth and chewed slowly as she stared at the array of images on Paul’s computer display. “The sky was still quite dark. Your sun was rising, I think. I heard a rumbling in the distance—some sort of aircraft, maybe. Not my ship, because I saw the pod shoot by overhead and then disappear. And . . . there was a light?”

“What, like overhead? Spotlights? Police lights? What color?”

“No, it was shining _through_ the monument. Here, let me . . .” She scooted to the edge of the sofa to scroll through the images. She jabbed a finger at the screen, her attention arrested by one in particular. “Like this. Exactly like this.”

It was an image of the Guidestones from straight on. The sky was dark blue with a thin band of pale yellow at the horizon, and the slabs of stone that made up the monument were nearly black in the low light. Right at the middle of the central slab, sunlight speared through a slot cut in the stone, sending out a radial flare of blinding orange. It could have been lifted directly from her vision. She glanced at Paul and saw him biting his lip.

“Hang on,” he muttered. She sat back as he grabbed the laptop and switched over to another tab. His eyes scanned quickly back and forth a few times, mouth moving wordlessly, until he found something that made his breath catch. “It’s the equinox. The sun only shines through the central slab like that on . . .” He looked back to her. “Rey, you saw a vision the Guidestones on the morning of the Spring Equinox.”

A date. They had a date. Sort of. That was a good thing. So why did he look so stricken?

“And when is that?”

Paul averted his gaze just enough for her to realize she wasn’t going to like the answer. Either this equinox was a very long way off, or . . .

“In four days,” he said, then laughed humorlessly. “You have four days. And then, if we're right, you get to leave.”

Four days? Well, it wasn’t tomorrow, and it wasn’t as if she’d missed it, and it wasn’t something that only happened once every decade. There were far worse answers. But the revelation that her path home would be open so soon didn’t fill Rey with the immediate swell of elation she’d expected. It felt the way it did to lose her footing in a tricky climb—everything precarious but sure enough until suddenly it wasn’t, and she was sliding back, trying to avoid a freefall. Her stomach flipped, her breath was knocked out of her, and her heart skipped.

“‘Get to leave,’” she echoed. Okay. So there was little time left to plan. Little time left to be with Paul. That was fine. It wasn’t _no_ time. Rey pushed a quiet laugh out through her nose and swatted his arm playfully. “You say that like I ought to be excited.”

“Aren’t you? You can go home.”

Rey nodded and curled her legs up onto the couch. “I don’t know. I wasn’t expecting it to happen so suddenly. And there’s still the matter of the ship. But . . .” As if that was the main thing she cared about. The depth of her conflict on the matter of returning inspired its own sort of guilt. “I want to go home. But I don’t want to leave you. And I know it’s what I have to do, but I was hoping I would have more time to wrap my head around it. I didn’t get that with . . .” She caught herself and shook her head. “It’s okay.”

“You didn’t get the time to make things right with him,” Paul said after a careful pause. He stopped again, watching her face, gauging her reaction. “Right?”

Rey nodded.

“Four days here isn’t nothing.”

“Yeah. You’re right. I’ll have time to . . . get used to it.”

“Trust me, it’s not easy for me either.” 

The right corner of his mouth twitched upward. She wondered if he’d let himself start to think about what things might be like she never found a way home. 

“There’s a lot to do before then,” she said. 

“And I’m not going to leave you to do it alone.” He reached for her and gently brushed some wisps of hair out of her face. “So let’s not mourn this before it’s over—remember?”

“Yeah, I remember.” She leaned into his touch and wound her fingers through his as he took his hand back. “You’re going back to work tomorrow?”

He nodded, closing his laptop and leaving it on the table with the leftovers. “Now that my ‘illness’ has passed. Though it’s tempting now to call the next few days a bust and stay.”

Rey grinned and raised an eyebrow. “I bet. I wouldn’t _discourage_ that decision, though . . . if you’re due back tomorrow, we should probably not stay up too late.”

“Well, it’s only—oh.” He looked at her askance and drew her closer. “Are you suggesting we call it an early night?”

“You _are_ recovering from a debilitating sickness,” she reminded him with a wink. She climbed to her feet and pulled him up with her, then began putting the food away. “They say sleeping helps.”

He snorted. “Or taking a beautiful woman to bed.”

“Hadn’t heard that one, but if you’d like to put it to the test, we’ve been making a pretty good team.”

He swatted her rump and dodged away before she could return the favor. Just like that, it felt like an ordinary night again. Tomorrow he’d return to work. He’d find out more about where her pod was being kept and, probably, what condition it was in. Rey would just hope that any fixes it might need were not beyond her knowledge. Unlikely, but it would be just her luck to find some crucial components missing or compromised. It was a lot to consider, even as things were finally coming together—and to an end.  

She was beginning to think that being the one doing the leaving behind was actually much harder than being the one who was left. Not yet, though. For now, they had a busy four days ahead, and Rey would take them one at a time, just as she always had.

 

-

 

With the finality of the next few days looming, it was more difficult than usual to leave Rey in bed the following morning. In a short time, Paul had become so accustomed to the feeling of another body beside his—the sound of her slow breathing, the smell of her hair or skin, the odd sense of her _there_ ness—that he wanted to bask in those things as much as possible. Yet work called. It was probably already strange enough that he’d taken two personal days in a row, though when he arrived at the office promptly at eight o’clock, none of his colleagues appeared very concerned at all. Evidently, no one was reluctant to assume he’d finally over-worked himself into a state of temporary exhaustion. 

No one except Armand Hox, who waited no less than five minutes after Paul was situated at his desk, large coffee in hand, to accost him and smugly fill him in on the minutes of the meeting Paul had missed the day before. It was an unnecessary task. He would just as easily get the crucial information from one of the interns. So, no, Hox had some other motive. Lucky for Paul, despite the confidential nature of their work, within ranks, Hox was a bit of an insufferable gossip. Paul suspected the man couldn’t help it: Hox didn’t do it out of some sense of camaraderie, but rather to remind people he knew more than they did.

Usually Paul didn’t care. This morning, it turned out to be exactly what he needed.

“As it happens,” Hox was saying as he got to his feet after briefing Paul, eyeing the closed office door, “you remember I mentioned the Army seized the downed . . . bogey?”

Paul grimaced at his computer display and glanced over his shoulder. “You can say spacecraft, you know. Everyone in this office is aware of the situation.”

It gave him a perverse and rather stupid burst of pleasure to remind Hox that when it came to matters like _this_ , Paul had far more firsthand experience, even if it had all amounted to him being stranded and handcuffed to a car in the middle of a field.

“How good of you to remind me.” Hox looked as if he was only just containing a sneer. “I have it on good authority that they’ve been yet unable to ascertain any useful details about the missing pilot—assuming there was one.”

“Yes, I’m aware.” That was one thing Paul had been keeping an eye on to the best of his ability. “They think it may have been remotely controlled.”

“It’s in remarkably good condition. Tests on the fuel have been inconclusive, but it’s nothing known on this side of the globe, that’s for certain.” His gaze sharpened. “And it turns out they’re keeping it close.”

“Oh?”

“Are you familiar at all with Fort Gillem?”

Paul’s eyes narrowed, and he began to wonder if Hox was having him on. “Isn’t that base disused?”

“In general terms.” 

Hox raised one pale eyebrow, and Paul could see that this was where the information ended. A little more than breadcrumbs, but not something Paul could really do much with aside from wonder. 

“Lunch later?” Hox asked in an inoffensive tone.

“No, thanks. I have a lot to catch up on.”

Paul would be lunching at his desk. In the end, he had dinner there too—a styrofoam container of sodium-laden cup ramen, a granola bar, and a bottle of Coke Zero from the vending machine. Not the most satisfying fuel by far, but enough to get him through the day and most of the evening before he glanced at the clock and realized it was nearly eight. His back was stiff, and one of his feet was falling asleep, and he couldn’t see why he should put off going home any longer when he had a good deal to look forward to when he got there.

News for Rey. Rey herself. 

Just her.

 

-

 

“Oh.”

It was all Rey had said since he’d proceeded to tell her about his last discovery. Not a single question, not even a comment on how easily Hox had given him this information. Just a slight rise of her eyebrows, and _oh_.

He couldn’t really blame her, when he’d spent his day cloistered in his office, avoiding all forms of socializing while drowning himself in work. More information meant more room for planning. More room for planning meant more chances for them to succeed, which meant Rey would find her way back to her galaxy. And Rey finding her way back… well, that meant something Paul wasn’t sure he could think about right now. Something about a cold bed and lonely breakfasts, and the promise that every trip to the planetarium would never feel the same.

“It means we can get your ship back,” he added when her silence became too much; though to be fair, it wasn’t exactly silent. The TV was still playing the show Rey had started to watch while he was away—something about aliens and humans, ironically.

She’d developed a curious addiction to Netflix, for which Paul fully blamed himself. Other nights, he would’ve joked about it; but Rey didn’t seem open to jokes tonight. Her face was closed, like she was trying to hide something from him, and his heart immediately jumped as he noticed the way her eyes unfocused. He wondered for a moment if she’d had another vision. 

“Rey?”

She looked back at him the second her name crossed his lips. “Sorry,” she mumbled with a shake of her head. “I…”

Her eyes avoided his as she sank deeper between the couch’s pillows, bringing her legs to her chest. Just like that, she looked every inch the child Paul had imagined based on what she’d told him about her childhood: fragile, self-reliant and yet so afraid. He caught sight of her fingers fumbling with the zipper of her jacket nervously— _his_ jacket, now that he thought about it—as she looked at the TV blankly, barely hiding the worry in her eyes.

“What happened to not mourning this before it’s over?” Paul murmured as he joined her carefully.

The voices of fictional aliens filled the silence for a moment as Rey shrugged, hunching a shoulder a bit more. Her eyes didn’t leave the screen when she spoke but didn’t seem focused on the show, either. “I guess I got lonely and started to think.”

There it was: the guilt that had followed him all day long like a shadow. Drowning his worries in work had only been a temporary solution, preventing him from imagining Rey at home, alone. This wasn’t something he’d ever felt insanely guilty about before, but now that their time together was officially limited… Rey didn’t have anything else to think about; nothing to help the day feel shorter. And given the way she barely listened to the episode playing in front of them, Netflix wasn’t a good enough distraction.

“I’m sorry,” Paul murmured.

It felt like her first night here all over again: him making careful movements lest she get scared or run away. Except a lot had happened since that first night: they’d gotten to know each other, trust each other and, in Paul’s case, to fall in love. Another thing he had to not dwell on—not now. For now, his priority was to keep Rey safe and happy for just four more days. Slow enough to let her move away if she wanted, Paul raised a hand up to her cheek and, when she didn’t move, cupped the side of her face in his palm, grazing his thumb along her skin. 

“What can I do?”

Something between the gesture and the question seemed enough to drag her away from her thoughts. Her face turned a few inches, allowing her eyes to meet his for the first time since the night before.

“Hold me.”

Paul obeyed without further questions, opening his arms for her to slip in. She was far from the Rey of last night, who’d accepted the deadline and decided to make the most of it; now, her figure seemed frail against his, and the way she held on to him only broke his heart a little more. It occurred to Paul, as he held her close, that just because Rey had always been used to loneliness didn’t mean she didn’t dread it. And even though he’d tried hard not to think about it, he could only understand; because in just four days, he would be back to that loneliness he’d grown accustomed to.

Maybe he’d made a mistake by offering her more than a shelter. Maybe they shouldn’t have forged this relationship when they knew it would have to end.

“How about we order something to eat,” he murmured into her hair after a few seconds of silent embrace.

The chuckle he felt against his chest made his heart skip a beat, then warm again. “You know me so well,” she murmured, then gave him a nod as she pulled away to let him grab his phone and order whatever food her stomach was in favor of.

Neither of them brought the topic back up over the next three days: Paul made sure he went back home for lunch and came back as early as his work would allow, and Rey focused on downing his Pop Tarts stock and consuming as many TV shows as she could. He supposed it was her way of dealing with boredom, as work was his way of dealing with the dreaded approach of the inevitable end. Still, in the darkness of the night, the kisses they exchanged were deeper than ever. There wasn’t a night they didn’t spend tangled together and not a day without kissing each other as much as they could. A minute spent apart felt like a loss they immediately corrected through more contact, even just a simple press on the arm when passing the other.

It all felt like a tranquil routine, a moment out of time nothing could threaten. It all felt good—not great, but good—until that last day, when Rey turned to him after the car stopped in the alleyway. She’d been unusually silent all evening, and even more so during the ride. Making an effort to hide his own nervousness, Paul turned to meet her gaze and felt his heart drop to the floor of his car at the sight of her misty eyes.

“It was my last Waffle House night,” she murmured sheepishly.

Something tightened around Paul’s stomach. He’d been holding back tears all day long, even letting a few out on his break this morning, but seeing Rey’s sorrow was somehow even more difficult than dealing with his own.

“Maybe not,” he replied with a faint smile as he reached for the back seat and grabbed his bag. A small smile made its way onto Rey’s lips as he got the familiar black and yellow wrapping out of the suitcase, then handed it to her. “Bev made these for you,” he explained as Rey curiously peeked between the paper folds. “They won’t last eternally, but enough to make it until next Friday.”

Next Friday. She would be gone for a week by then. A week of lonely days, lonely evenings, and lonely night. A sigh left him as she let out a soft “thank you,” then left the car holding the waffles close to her chest.

Como greeted them with his usual barks and excited jumps the second they closed the door, and Paul couldn’t help noticing the way Rey held him a little longer than normal. He didn’t say anything, though, and let her walk Como to the garden without following. The two had gotten so close is such little time, the least he could do was give them a moment alone. He didn’t question her either when she came back misty-eyed twenty minutes later, nor when he heard her sniffling as she put Como in his room like they’d done for the last few days.

They’d agreed to treat this night as any other night, and so he walked to the living room, expecting Rey to do the same. She didn’t move, though; her eyes still fixed on him as he reached the couch. “Paul?”

“Yes?”

“It’s over now, isn’t it?”

Everything that’d been hanging above their heads for the last three days, the fear, the mourning, the need for more—it hit him all at once. _Over_. The tiny rope he’d felt wrapping around his heart lately tightened harder than ever as he took the steps separating them and put his hands on the arms she’d crossed above her chest.

“It won’t ever be over.” The promise left him in a murmur, grazing her skin as he brought his lips to the top of her head. His arms naturally fell around her, wrapping around her waist as she leaned against him, burying her face against his chest, and Paul knew she was crying. He didn’t need to see it to know—just the way she shook in his arms and clutched at his shirt was enough to guess.

“I’ll miss you,” he heard her breathe out after a moment.

“I’ll miss you too,” Paul replied, and suddenly, he realized he was unable to say what was worse between hearing or saying it.

Rey was the first to pull away, leaving a few stains on his shirt. Even with red eyes and hair glued to her cheeks, she was utterly beautiful, and with just a look, Paul was seized by more emotions he’d ever felt at once. Longing, despair, fear, hope, need, and need again, need to feel her against him while he still could. To know she wasn’t a dream, she was real, they were real, and everything they had wasn’t just some weird illusion.

Just when he was about to kiss her, Rey spoke again, little breaths leaving her in shudders. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why would you be sorry?”

“I could choose to stay.”

Saying he hadn’t thought about it would be a lie. Paul had definitely found himself daydreaming about a reality in which Rey didn’t have to leave, a world in which they had a future, even just a chance of maybe building a life together. He would’ve brought her to a shelter to let her find Como’s brother or sister, would’ve taught her more about the world he lived in. He would’ve proposed to her, eventually—and maybe she would’ve said yes. Maybe he would’ve ordered a waffle cake and made her laugh with it. His grandmother’s ring would’ve looked just magnificent on her finger.

“I wouldn’t ask you,” Paul said in a low voice. “You have another life waiting for you somewhere else.”

“But what about here?”

Looking at her right now would only make this conversation harder than it already was. He couldn’t meet her eyes and keep his desire from crossing his mouth. His eyes closed as he spoke again, his hands tightening their grip on her waist. “It’s not safe for you here. You can’t live your life trapped in this living room waiting for me to get home. Besides, there are people waiting for you.”

He knew he was right; still, he would’ve given anything to be proven wrong. And given Rey’s silence, she knew it too. Her body slightly relaxed after a moment, pushing Paul to open his eyes again. Hers greeted him immediately, along with a sad smile as she let her hands fall on the exposed skin of his forearms.

“You know, that night… when you kissed me?”

Of course he remembered; he remembered the first taste of her lips, the wine on them and the way she’d cried when he’d complimented her. “Yes?”

“It’s one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”

“You’re still very beautiful,” Paul murmured, remembering the promise he’d made that night.

He may not have told her every day, but he’d always made sure she felt like it. And whoever seemed to occupy her thoughts whenever she faded out, whoever she’d left behind… well, he hoped he would tell her every day for him.

One of her hands traveled up his arm to his chest as the other found its way behind his neck, pulling him to bend down a few inches. When he did, she kissed him tenderly, her breath deep and shuddered. Her fingers were quick to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as she deepened the kiss, slowly yet eagerly.

“Rey, you should get some sleep,” Paul murmured against her lips when they pulled away for air. “You need to—”

It was a lie, it was all a lie. She didn’t need to sleep for at least another couple of hours, but he didn’t want to surrender to what his body was begging him to give in to. Because it wouldn’t be easy, it never would be, it never was—but tonight was probably going to be even more challenging than whatever was waiting for them tomorrow.

“I want to remember you,” Rey replied as she kissed him again. “I need to remember every part of you.”

Her free hand undid a button in the middle of his shirt, sending a wave of shivers through his body. Her fingers quickly slipped under the fabric, only increasing his shivers when they met his skin—and just like that, Paul was already gone. “Let’s make sure you do.”

She let out a small gasp as he hoisted her up, his arms tight under her ass as she squeezed her legs around his waist. Her arms wrapped around his neck in no time, and she closed the gap between them with another searing kiss that made Paul wonder where he found the strength to not let her fall just yet. Blindly, he walked to the room she’d occupied all month, trying hard not to bump her into any walls as he made his way through the corridor and to the guest room. The memory of their date night washed over him as he felt her thighs tighten around him, firm and impatient. Her tongue grazed his lips just as he sat down on her bed, asking him for access he granted immediately.

They’d done this a dozen times now, yet tonight felt special. They were slower to undress each other, careful not to rush anything as more skin was exposed. Their lips barely ever parted, planting kisses along each other’s bodies as they went, leaving marks everywhere they could. Their skin looked like galaxies, scattered with pink, uneven constellations melting under their lips. Soon enough, Paul was blinded by Rey’s hair as she buried her face in his neck, her legs wrapped around him as he made a point of caressing every inch of her body. Any part of her could fit in his hand perfectly, like it was meant to be—and the sheer thought only tightened the knot around Paul’s heart.

She was taking her time, too: straddling him with an ease he could only admire, letting herself glide along him with a tranquil pace only contrasted by the way her nails dig into the skin of his shoulders as she sank down on him, taking him inch by inch. Any other time, he would’ve delighted in the soft moans she let out, focused on bringing her to her climax, but not tonight.

Tonight, his focus was on conveying all his love through gestures and touch, showing the unsaid with his mouth and skin. Because there was no way he could tell her; no way he could burden her with the knowledge that in just under a month, he’d fallen deeply, utterly in love with her. So he kept caressing her back instead, murmuring sweet words in her ear as his lips traced every line of her neck as her arms held him close to her, close enough that he could feel her heartbeat as they spent their last night together in the best way they could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaand we're very, very sorry, we broke our own hearts


	8. Just a Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, slight change in the chapters count and HEA incoming ♥

 

The next morning he felt like he was moving on autopilot. When he woke up, Rey was already awake, crying silently in his arms, saying nothing and making no noise, but there were enough tears spilling from her eyes that they’d leaked onto his shirt, and he just wanted to kiss them away. He wanted to roll over and kiss her senseless, maybe take her to Waffle House, but they had a job to do; they had a mission. 

For two minutes, though, he let himself rub gentle circles into Rey’s back, soothing her as best he could—while also soothing himself—before they decided to get up. He watched her rise from the mattress, her shoulders slumped as she walked over to the closet and opened it, sifting through the fabric—all the clothes he’d bought for her that he’d have no use for once she was gone—until she found what she’d been wearing the day she’d crashed. 

She looked at it for a few seconds, seeming apprehensive as she held the gray fabric in her hand, then held that hand to her face for a few seconds before she turned back and looked at him. There was something unreadable in her eyes as she looked at him, then she turned her gaze on the corner of the room, reached out, and summoned her lightsaber to her hand with the Force. He watched in awe as the weapon landed in her grasp; then she ignited it and cut through the final inches of the fabric before turning the saber off and making her way back toward him. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, confused and bewildered by what he’d just seen as she approached. 

Wordlessly, she set the lightsaber down on his nightstand and sat down on the bed beside him. Paul could only watch, speechless, as she took one of his hands in hers, holding him by the wrist as she placed it in her lap, then took the fabric she’d cut and wrapped it around his wrist. Understanding filled him then, and his eyes welled with tears as she tied it in careful, strategically planned knots that ensured it wouldn’t go anywhere any time soon, and placed a kiss over his knuckles, blinking more tears free as she did so. 

“I don’t have anything to give you of mine, anything to leave behind, so I’m giving you this,” she told him. “The one thing you’ll have to ensure you don’t forget me.”

He sat up and placed a hand on her cheek. “Rey, I’ll never forget you,” he promised her, then he leaned forward and placed a brief kiss on her forehead. “Ever. I told you, every time I look at the stars, I’ll think of you, I’ll know you’re out there, and I’ll miss you, but just knowing you’re somewhere saving the galaxy? That’ll be enough.”

She sniffled, but nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he replied, then he leaned forward, and kissed her properly. This kiss, though, didn’t grow deep, they didn’t melt into it, fall into each other, or sink to the bed. They just held one another, lips parting and coming together for a few seconds in acknowledgement of the connection between them, but they both knew they didn’t have time for more. Their last kiss, the one that would actually last a long time, would come much, much later. 

For now they had to run, they had to get Rey _home._

They parted slowly, hesitantly, like they both really wanted to sink back in and apologize for ever even considering this plan to leave, but they couldn’t. It was too late for that. Their time had run out, and they needed to be gone soon. They needed to be out in the wind. 

With a heavy heart, Paul sighed and wiped another tear from her cheeks. “I need to feed Como, make sure he’s looked after while we’re gone.”

“How are you gonna do that?”

“I’ll text my neighbor, he sometimes looks after him when I’ve got shit to do,” he replied, then he shuddered as he felt a lump begin forming in his throat. “Hopefully he’ll still do it even though he hates me now.”

“Why does he hate you?”

“We haven’t exactly been quiet, Rey,” he said, then they both laughed through their tears, nostalgia filling them as they remembered all their nights together—including their _last_ night together—and a fresh wave of grief washed over them. “But anyway, I’ll do that, you can get dressed, then we can get going. You can go home.”

The way she looked at him made him certain there was an unspoken, _I don’t want to_ , in her eyes. It nearly broke him to see, so he tore himself away and got out of bed. He grabbed his phone as he made his way toward his dresser for clothes of his own and walked out of the bedroom, leaving Rey alone to dress herself as he went. 

Paul got dressed quickly and almost robotically, barely remembering the act of putting on his clothes as he walked out of the other bedroom and into the living room. Como was immediately on alert when he saw him, his tail wagging as he got up and padded over to greet his dad, who gave him a sad smile and a head scratch as he made his way into the kitchen. He could hardly even bring himself to look at his dog as he went. 

Over the past few weeks, the German Shepherd had come to love Rey almost as much as his father had, and he knew it was going to break the dog’s heart when he came home that night and she was no longer with him. They’d both grown far too attached to someone who was only ever going to be temporary, and now the heartbreak was upon them. 

“I’m sorry, buddy,” he told his dog as he reached into the fridge and grabbed the waffles he’d preserved for Rey from Waffle House, then reached into the rest of his breakfast supplies. Eggs and bacon were an excellent last meal on Earth, in his professional opinion, and so he cut the stove on, and began cooking, waiting patiently for Rey to join him for their last meal together.

The bedroom door opened a few minutes later, and she walked out looking more forlorn than ever, but also every inch the woman he’d first rescued from that escape craft. His memories almost overwhelmed him for a second: the sight of her bleeding and unconscious but so strong inside that ship. He remembered how it felt to carry her, the first time he heard her name, the first time he gave her his, how she’d reacted when she met Como, their first shopping trip, the first time they ate Waffle House, the first time he made her laugh; when they’d first kissed and his whisper of “can I kiss you?” haunted him in the best way; their date, the stars, how she felt when she came around him for the first time; the wall, those nights and days they spent just making love all over his apartment, and their last night together. 

In one split second, he could see it all, their entire relationship played out for him like a tragic short film. It made his heart ache in his chest, and he once again found himself fighting the urge to run up to her, kiss her senseless, and plead with her not to go. God, he wanted her to stay, he wanted to know her, love her, maybe marry her one day if she told him she loved him back, but he couldn’t. Trapping her there would be the cruelest thing he could do, so he kept his silence and continued cooking as she strolled up to him. “You look nice.”

“Shut up,” she said, but a tiny smile twitched at the corners of her mouth as she rested a hand on his shoulder, then leaned against it. “You’re just trying to make me smile.”

“You have a beautiful smile, I take every chance I have to see it.”

“Maybe you should draw it.”

“Or I’ll take a picture,” he said, then set the spatula down, lowered the heat on the burners, and reached into his back pocket for his phone. “Get in here.”

Rey rolled her eyes, but leaned even closer as he held up the phone, and snapped one quick picture of the two of them, smiling in spite of how much pain they were in. He then put it back in his pocket, and turned briefly to press a kiss to the crown of her head as he sighed contentedly. “And now I have a picture.”

“Now you have a picture, but I don’t have a picture of you.”

“I’ll give you my driver’s license, how’s that?”

“I don’t really know what that is, but sure,” she said. “Can we eat now? My stomach just made a noise I don’t want it repeating.”

Another sad laugh escaped him, but he nodded. “Sure.” Then they fell silent, saying nothing as he turned the burners back up, and not speaking until he’d finished cooking their eggs and bacon. 

Eating their last meal together was something bittersweet. It felt comforting to just eat with her by his side, looking over at her occasionally and just watching her _be_ put him at ease. Already he was dreading how that feeling would leave him when she was gone. Rey’s presence was calming, soothing, and made him want to bathe in whatever light she seemed to radiate forever. 

All that he’d ever be able to have, though, was the tiny piece of gray fabric wrapped around his wrist, and as he finished his last piece of bacon, he looked down at it, blinking a tear from his eye as he tried to come to terms with what they were about to do. He really was going to miss her. 

Rey finished eating her food first, and she got up without saying a word and took her plate over to the sink. Como followed her eagerly, hoping to get a tiny piece of her scraps as she washed it off, but all he got from her was a laugh. “Nice try, Como,”” she whispered to him, causing Paul to smile as he took his last bite, then he joined them in the kitchen.

His bastard dog was waiting for them both to drop food when he got there, sitting like a good boy--when he definitely wasn’t--as he begged him and Rey with those adorable eyes of his for their food. “Not a chance,” Paul told him as he walked past him and dumped his plate in the sink, then turned to look at Rey. The brief, comedic mood was over. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“It’s time. We have to leave now or we won’t make it.”

“And I won’t get home.”

Paul nodded somberly, then he stepped back, and watched Rey look down at Comosus, who still wasn’t aware that anything was about to go awry. “You should say goodbye.”

Hearing this, she sniffled, but nodded and knelt down to the dog’s level, giving him half-hearted giggles as he leaned forward and attempted to lick her face clean off. Como’s weakness had always been bacon grease, and that definitely wasn’t going to change for even the most serious of moments. “Come here, you,” Rey muttered after a few more seconds, then she wrapped her arms around the dog’s neck and pulled him in for a hug. 

For once, the German Shepherd actually stood still and accepted that he was being hugged. It softened Paul’s heart to watch as he even rested his head on her shoulder; and then it occurred to him that this was because Rey was now crying, her entire body shaking with sobs as she buried her hands in the dog’s fur and let herself cry. 

Fighting back tears of his own, he nodded once to himself, and knelt down beside them, wrapping them both in his arms, holding the two beings that mattered most in the world to him as one of them sobbed and the other finally seemed to understand what sadness meant. Several tears spilled onto his cheeks, his glasses fogging up probably irreparably, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as they sat there on the floor like that together, as his and Rey’s hands buried themselves in the soft expanse of Como’s fur. 

As they finally accepted that their time together had come to an end, and it was time to send Rey home. 

 

-

 

Paul flexed his hands on the steering wheel and stole a glance at the clock on the dash—just past six A.M. They were still about ten minutes from Fort Gillem. Sunrise was at 7:11. He knew because he’d looked it up a few days ago, and he’d double-, triple-, quadruple-checked it since then. It wasn’t a sure thing; all they had to go on was that Rey’s vision had shown her the Guidestones at sunrise, her ship scoring the sky overhead as the sun broke the horizon. There was no way to know how precisely they needed to time it. If waiting a minute too long would eliminate her chances of getting home; if trying too early would result in a near miss; if this was all for nothing no matter what they did.

He was relying on a feeling that what they were doing was right. Each decision they made from this point on was a step forward. It was instinct. His own, Rey’s, and maybe, just a bit, the good will of the Force, or whatever form it took here on Earth. 

Eyes back on the road, he stifled a yawn and groped at the display until the radio came on, filling the car with a quiet strain of whatever Top 40 station he’d had it tuned to last. Rey, who had been fairly quiet even as she sat there exuding eager energy, was humming along within a few moments. Not _well_ , but it was endearing, and it gave him a little boost of energy in a way that no coffee could have. 

“You know this one?” he asked, mostly facetious. Rey had been on Earth for nearly a month, sure, but as far as he knew, she had not spent a lot of time exploring its many (and, in his opinion, often questionable) music offerings.

Her humming faded as the chorus swung into another verse, and she sounded like she was smiling when she said, “It was playing in the Waffle House the first time you took me there. I was trying to take everything in—I remember this one.”

“Oh.” He forced a short chuckle, ignoring the uncomfortable squirm of nostalgia that would now be forever tied to a song he’d previously found annoying. “Sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“If that’s what you’re taking back with you in terms of music, I’d’ve made more effort to introduce you to something other than Taylor Swift.”

“I’m taking all sorts of things back with me. There’s nothing I’ve seen or done or heard here I plan to forget.”

“I know.” Paul reached toward her and rubbed her knee, then lingered when she placed her hand over his. “We’ll be there soon. Are you going to be ready to do your . . . Force thing?”

Rey’s leg bounced a couple times under his hand, then stilled as she puffed out a sigh. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

They'd made the plan the morning after they realized the significance of the Guidestones. Sort of a plan, anyway—it had occurred to him then that he hadn’t actually had any plan at all with Alton. He’d just trusted and acted. With Rey, he’d had time to think, for better or worse, and he hoped he’d made good use of it.

He’d used his connections in the office to get more details about the whereabouts of her ship, the condition it was in, and the level of security around it. As it stood, he believed he knew exactly where it was being kept on Fort Gillem property and that, while no one had managed to get the thing running, it was still whole and untampered with. Pertinent details, he figured, when one was about to embark on a serious bit of criminal activity. Old hat for him, really. What was one more middle finger to the government that employed him?

God, it really was a miracle he still had a job. Or a life outside a federal prison.

When it came to the rest—actually getting into the base without being accosted or arrested—Rey had not seemed very bothered at all and promised, cryptically, that she could take care of it.

Paul had kept his skepticism to himself, but he was still fighting doubts. Beside him, Rey was suddenly calmer, as if the proximity of their first destination had reined in any nerves or uncertainty. With the dark road ahead empty of traffic, he looked at her out the corner of his eye: she was cradling the lightsaber in her lap, her free hand idly tapping against the casing.

“It's not . . . you’re not going to use that, are you?” he said. “To get us in?”

“What?” Rey rubbed his hand, then let him return it to the wheel. Her bewilderment was replaced by realization as she lifted the saber. “This?”

“Yeah. Just— If we can avoid anyone getting harmed, I think that would be best.”

He could imagine a dozen-dozen ways for this to go wrong, but most of them came down to him—the unarmed man who was, at best, dubiously skilled at lying and far too reliant on his own freakishly good luck. Rey could clearly take care of herself. Which was where his concerns came in. He knew the weapon she carried was capable of cutting through just about anything. He also knew _she_ had a great deal of power, forget any sort of weapon. 

If they were apprehended, would she fight? Was her desire to get home strong enough to hurt someone over? To kill for?

“I think that would be best too,” she said, and the sound of her voice sent his anxieties scattering. “There’s this thing I did once. Just once, and I’m hoping I can do it again because otherwise, yeah, this could get difficult, but . . .”

“What is it?”

“It’s a trick, I guess.”

“With the Force?”

“Yes. I was imprisoned and left alone. It was before I really knew what I was capable of—I’m still learning, I mean, but—” She shook her head and hunkered down in the seat. “I’d heard these stories about the Jedi using the Force to get people to do things.”

Paul frowned at the half-fogged windshield and clicked the defroster on. “What, like mind control?”

“Not really. It was more like . . . a suggestion? I got a guard to release me and leave his blaster behind. It took a few tries, but it worked, once I realized I wasn’t trying to control him so much as guide him.”

“Huh.” He rolled his neck and heard it crack over the sound of a Coca Cola jingle. “So that’s what we’re counting on to get us in?”

“I know, I’m a little nervous about it too,” she admitted. “I haven’t done it more than the one time.”

Paul considered for a few moments. “Do you want to try it on me before we go in?”

She gave a short, incredulous laugh. “What, really?”

“Yeah. Sure. I trust you not to make me do anything ridiculous. If it would help you remember how it felt.”

The idea was slightly uncomfortable, but not totally foreign. He’d let Alton into his mind, sort of, and it had left him indelibly changed in a way he had never regretted. For Rey, he would do so much more if she required it—and they didn’t exactly have much room for fuck-ups here. If she needed a practice run to feel more confident in the plan, he’d offer whatever he could. Yet she made a skeptical sound and shook her head.

“It wouldn’t work on you.”

“Why not?” He couldn’t help feeling slighted, which was ridiculous, as if she’d just insulted his brain’s suitability. “I really don’t mind. Just don’t do it while I’m driving”

“No, it’s not that. I have this sense that it works best on people who . . . hm.” She paused and fiddled with the saber again. “Who’re good at following orders? People who are already inclined to do as they’re told. And you aren’t that sort.”

“Oh.” He snorted with laughter and squinted at the upcoming sign by the roadside. Their exit was in five miles. “Guess not, in this case. Though don’t get me wrong, after this I’m hoping my habit of committing federal offenses is at an end.”

“What will you do after this?”

The question hit him like a slap. For all the preparing and talking they’d done, she’d never asked him, and he’d never thought to bring it up. Hell, he hadn’t thought to ask in turn. He knew she was going back to a war. The other details were murky, probably for the best—he was already going to worry enough about her well-being, her safety, whether she ever found what she was looking for.

“Um. I guess . . .” Paul worried his lip a moment, then pushed his glasses up his nose out of habit. “What I did last time.”

“Which was what?”

He let out a long sigh. “Pretend this never happened.”

“Sounds hard.”

“It will be.” Even as he said it, he knew it was a promise he had every intention of breaking. “What about you?”

“Hope I can find my friends. And then . . . do what I need to. Move forward.” 

“Right.” He reached for her hand and laced his fingers loosely with hers. Her palm was so warm and smooth. He would remember the feeling of it against his, and so much else. “Move forward. Me too.”

The rest of the ride was too short, and Paul felt a knot of nerves forming in his belly as the base came into view, lit up bright even at this hour. They needed to pass through a security checkpoint before being permitted onto the base—and then the truly complicated part began. When he pulled up, he rolled down the window and reached for his identification when directed to do so, waiting for Rey to act. The guard peered in from her station, eyes darting between them.

He was more tense than he’d realized—the sound of Rey’s voice at his ear made him jolt.

“We’re supposed to be here.”

Leaning over him, she made eye contact with the guard and waved a hand through the air with an aloof coolness he’d rarely seen her affect. Her voice was as firm and calm as if she truly believed every word. God, _he_ almost believed it.

The guard looked less convinced. Her brow twitched uncertainly, and her hand moved toward the walkie at her hip. “You’re . . .” 

“We’re supposed to be here,” Rey repeated, just as stolid.

An odd expression passed over the guard’s face this time. Her suspicion fell away, replaced by impassive acceptance. She regarded Paul and Rey with only a modicum of interest, as if they were a clump of leaves blowing past on the wind.

“Ah. Right. Of course you’re supposed to be here.”

Paul could feel Rey’s relief, though she did not relax. Her fingers twitched, her hand still outstretched as the guard watched and waited. 

“You will let us enter and tell no one of this,” she said.

“I will let you enter and tell no one.” The guard straightened up and waved them through with a mildly dazed expression on her face. “Go on then. And y’all have a nice evening.”

Paul stopped himself from muttering an automatic “thank you,” rolled the window up, and proceeded through. With a bit more effort, he also stopped himself from dwelling too much on how the way Rey had spoken with such calm authority—and how it had _worked_ —was one of the most arousing things he’d experienced all week. Once they’d put the security checkpoint a safe distance behind them, he peered over at Rey. 

“Nice work,” he said. “Nothing to worry about after all.”

“Nope. Nothing to worry about.” She flashed him a tight smile. “It was easier than I thought. Let’s hope that holds the rest of the way.”

He thought she was underselling herself. It was still too easy to remember the tension that had gripped him as he snuck Alton out of the facility, waiting for the moment when they were inevitably accosted, questioned, and turned in. Now, after this first small success, Paul felt none of that. He was calm and ready, and as they parked the car and began their way through the base itself, heading for a disused warehouse near the far east side, he couldn’t see why he had worried at all. They had the cover of night, the base was nearly empty, and when they encountered another pair of guards outside their destination, Rey dismissed them with as much ease as she had the first. 

“I can’t believe you got them to tell us exactly where it is in here,” Paul muttered as they marched off, unable to stop himself from returning the self-satisfied smile currently curving Rey’s lips.

“Not like there’s much in the way,” she quipped. Indeed, the warehouse _was_ disused—it seemed to serve as a store for retired parts and out-of-service military aircraft. Rey’s spaceship was conspicuous and so close to the large bay doors at the other end that Paul began to wonder if the government had been planning to relocate it soon. “I thought having them escort us directly to it might be testing our luck.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, let’s not press this that far. The fact we’ve made it in without getting our asses arrested for trespassing seems precarious enough.”

Though time was of the essence, they approached her ship with slow caution. Rey was clearly taken with the other aircraft, her neck craning this way and that as they walked, her eyes darting from propellers to engines to disembodied tangles of wiring and stacks of spent batteries. To her, this place must have been a trove. He was a little sad she wouldn’t have the chance to explore it, as she so clearly wanted to.

To Paul’s relief, the information he’d managed to dig up had not been wrong: Rey’s ship appeared to be in nearly identical condition as it had been the night he’d found her. The nose was dented, one of the sides heavily scored with burns, the fuselage still covered in dirt and black smears of ash. The interior, when she opened the hatch, held an odor of burnt fuel and stale smoke. Now that he wasn’t in a state of panic over finding an unconscious human being inside, he could really get a look at it. The controls still made no sense to him, though he figured if he stared long enough he could infer the basics. And while he’d only noticed the pilot’s seat before, he now saw that there was a second compartment behind it, large enough for several passengers or crew members. There was even an overhead cargo hold, almost like the sort on an airplane.

He was about to comment on that, but Rey nudged him aside and climbed in. Automatically, her hands moved over panels and parts, probably checking for things he would never even think to consider. 

As he lingered just outside, she threw him an inquiring glance. “Well? Get in here, there’s plenty of space.”

Paul squeezed inside—there was, technically, plenty of space with just the two of them, but he didn’t want to be in the way of her routine, and he _really_ didn’t want to come off as a wide-eyed rube (though it was probably too late for that). She was already hunkered down in the pilot’s seat, tampering with the main console, shifting levers, her fingers moving swiftly over a sleek keypad. And then, suddenly, there was the slightest vibration in the floor, and the metal panel near his ear hummed with power, and the ship was running.

Rey’s face lit up as he leaned over her shoulder to peer at the console. 

“Fuel reserves should be more than enough, even if I need to jump to lightspeed at some point,” she said, almost to herself. Her eyes darted over a few other screens, then narrowed. “Hm. Though the nav system’s scrambled. Could be it can’t get a recognizable signal—figures. I might be able to override it, though I don’t know if that’ll just—”

“Hang on, I have a better idea.” Paul dug into his pocket and pulled his phone out. He wasn’t entirely sure, but it was worth a shot. “I have the Guidestones coordinates,” he told her as he typed. “We can use this to get there from here. By air, in this thing? It’ll take no time at all.”

She had it ready to fly within another minute, which meant the only problem left was getting it out of the warehouse. They were near the bay door, but it was locked, and Paul had no expertise in hacking security systems. At this point it wouldn’t have shocked him to find that Rey did, but she had some thoughts of her own on the matter—she guided the ship off the ground, looked at him with amusement, and accelerated. One moment they were careening toward the door; the next, there was no door, just an explosion of obliterated metal as they blew through it and into the open air. 

If they’d gotten this far without drawing undue attention, he supposed that was over now. And he supposed it hardly mattered. Rey’s ship would get them to the Guidestones in a fraction of the time anyone could pursue them by land or even air. By the time he and Rey got there, by the time the sun began to rise, any risk of interference would be almost a nonissue. He thought so, anyway. They were above the clouds and cruising toward their destination before he realized something was off.

They weren’t going very fast at all—at least, not nearly as fast as he’d expected. He checked his phone. It had them arriving in just shy of an hour. Definitely not what he was counting on. They’d barely make it in time.

“Rey?”

“Yeah.”

Her voice was clipped, her gaze flinty, set on her task—but her face softened just a bit at the sound of his voice.

“Does this thing travel any faster? I thought . . .”

“It _should_ , “ she said. “I don’t know what’s wrong. Might be a fuel line problem, or some wiring got jostled loose, but I can’t exactly go find out right now if— hm.”  Rey blinked and settled back in her seat to look over at him. “How would you feel about taking over here for a few minutes? Just give me enough time to see if I can figure out what’s wrong.”

Paul stared at her for several seconds, then let loose a burst of laughter, which he realized too late was pretty damn rude. “Sorry, you want me t _o fly this thing_?”

She ignored his faux pas and frowned down at the controls. “It’s not like it’s hard. These things have manual controls, but they’re made with the assumption there might not be a pilot on board. Just, with the nav down, I can’t just let it sit on auto. All you really need to do it keep us straight for a few minutes.”

“Um…”

“You’ll love it, I promise. It’s fun. Circumstances aside.”

 _Circumstances aside_. Paul suppressed a chuckle at her choice of words and gave her a nod he could feel wasn’t as enthusiastic as it should’ve been.

“I can do it,” he assured, half-believing his statement.

Something in the way he said it, or maybe the words he used, seemed to disturb Rey. She remained silent for a few seconds, seemingly lost in her thoughts before she turned to him and gave him a lopsided grin that sent his heart to his knees. 

“I know,” she said with a softer voice. “Come here, take my seat.”

They maneuvered around each other in an organized mess, her hands still on the commands as he slipped under her arms to claim the seat she’d just left. His eyes never once left her hands, trying to register each of her gestures as she guided the ship through its course—but just when he thought she was about to hand him the controls, Rey moved back in front of him and sat on his lap.

“Your hands,” she asked from behind her shoulder.

Paul’s thoughts immediately drifted back to the memory of her using her abilities to let them pass through security. Maybe this only worked on people inclined to follow orders—but right now, he felt absolutely willing to do as he was told if the orders came from her. The authority she’d had earlier had certainly had an effect on him, and still had one now as her order echoed in his mind on loop.

Even though she hadn’t turned her head completely, Paul swore he could see the hint of a smirk. She definitely knew the situation didn’t require her to sit on his lap, and had probably sensed the effect it’d had on him—only a fool wouldn’t have noticed. Biting the inside of his cheeks, Paul immediately obliged her and slipped his hands under hers, letting her fingers wrap his around the controls and guide him through what he needed to remember. Nothing too complicated, thankfully—just the basics, as well as which button to push if another one started to flicker.

“Just keep us on the trajectory. I’ll be quick.”

Before he could make a slight movement to pull her closer, she left his lap and disappeared into the small space behind, leaving him alone with sweaty hands gripping at the levers and a realization that _he_ was flying this thing. It wasn’t that much different from a plane, though the sensations were closer to the ones elicited by a helicopter, if less shaky. Soon his whole body relaxed enough to slightly let go of the controls and look at the landscape they were flying over. Rey had told him about the significant differences between the few planets she’d visited—some green, some covered with sand, others a mix of buildings and giant weapons—but he’d been most fascinated by how it must feel to fly through entire systems. His scientist brain knew it couldn’t be that different from what their numerous satellites could show them, but being aboard this ship, experiencing its pace and knowing it could go far faster, as fast as light—even his scientific side couldn’t keep his inner child from smiling with amazement at the sheer thought of the sight it must be.

“Holding on?” Rey asked from wherever she’d disappeared.

“Just fine.”

A series metallic sounds echoed, followed by a tiny explosion and the sound of Rey cussing. It wasn’t a word Paul knew, but he’d heard her say it a few times before. Hadn’t the other sounds been slightly alarming, he would’ve allowed himself to laugh at her situation. Instead, he grabbed the controls a little more tightly. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just— _ah_ — I’m fine. Nothing I can’t fix.”

Another thud echoed, this time followed by a victorious exclamation and the sound of Rey’s footsteps approaching. “Got it,” she breathed out as she reached the cockpit. “Let me see if—”

“Maybe,” Paul cut her off as her hand hovered above a button that looked way too large and menacing, “maybe you should get your seat back?”

A knowing smile on her lips, Rey made her way back in front of him and wrapped her hands around his. “I think you look good on it.”

If the situation hadn’t involved piloting a foreign flying vehicle, her words would’ve sent his heartbeat into overdrive; but with every passing second, it became more obvious that the ship had regained some power and was begging for it to be released. Not without a grin, Rey beckoned him to get up and claimed the pilot’s seat back as Paul retreated behind her.

“You may want to buckle up,” she warned as one of her hands hovered above the panel control.

Before he could point out that there weren’t any other seats or belts, her fingers landed on the big button he’d dreaded. A sound signal echoed, followed by a brief jolt—and just as Paul had the mind to grab the back of the pilot’s seat, their speed tripled in the blink of an eye with incredible ease. Everything around them blurred, rendering the landscape to a cluster of green and brown stains as they progressed through their route. Paul’s phone emitted a signal as they passed what resembled a highway.

“What’s it say?” Rey asked with a frown.

A chuckle left Paul as he glanced at the device. “You’re breaking the speed limit.”

“You have speed limits?”

He wasn’t sure which of them started, but the sound of their laughter echoed around the ship for a few moments before a silence similar to the one they’d observed in the car fell around them. Only the GPS broke it from time to time, warning them about a few potholes and another speed limit violation that elicited weak smiles from them. There was no avoiding the countdown displayed on his phone: and by the time they reached the ‘two minutes’ milestone, Rey let out a small gasp that tied another knot around Paul’s stomach.

“It’s— we’re here,” she murmurs. “It’s beautiful.”

The sun was just starting to rise, its light barely hidden by the stones standing proudly in the middle of the field. Maybe this was just because of what they now symbolized, but something about their stance felt almost imperial and incredibly impressive. The feeling only increased as they drew closer to the Guidestones; and with each passing second, the knot around Paul’s stomach only tightened a bit more. As beautiful as this sunset was, it was another reminder of what little time he still had with Rey.

Despite their low altitude, it appeared that landing a ship was just as fraught as taking off. Once again holding on to Rey’s seat, Paul found himself closing his eyes during the whole process, only opening them once everything was calm again.

“Now we wait?” Rey asked minutes later as they set foot on the grass.

The stones seemed even bigger from there, their messages clearer as they approached them; though given what he’d seen just a year ago, getting too close was probably not a good idea. Stopping at a good distance, Paul took a deep breath and gave her a nod. _Now they waited_. Without taking his eyes off the structure, he took Rey’s hand and almost smiled when she squeezed his back. He didn’t dare look at her, though; allowing himself to dive into her eyes minutes before he was supposed to let her go felt like a dangerous idea. Even more dangerous than everything they’d done so far.

“I suppose I can’t ask to come with you.”

She didn’t give him a reply, but the way she tightened her hold on him was enough to guess the answer. It’d been a stupid question, anyway. His hand was getting clammy against hers, but letting go didn’t feel like an option—not yet. Maybe they only had minutes, but they were precious minutes.

What they both expected and dreaded happened earlier than Paul had hoped: the ground began to tremble under them, followed by a flash of light that was too powerful to blame on the sun. It blinded them for a few seconds, forcing Paul to squint to get an idea of what was happening in front of them: pure, bright light emanated from the stones themselves. It looked like a frozen whirlwind that only grew wider as it traveled through the clouds and up to the sky, its end too far for their mortal eyes to find it. Sooner than expected, too, Rey let go of him and turned, but not towards the light—she turned to him, fear in her eyes as she grabbed his arms with trembling hands.

“I don’t know if I can move forward,” she breathed out, a tremor in her voice. This was everything Paul had feared, and what he, deeply, selfishly, knew he’d hoped for.

“You will,” he promised, already feeling the knot around his stomach moving to his heart. “You have to.”

“Paul—”

“Go save your galaxy. I’ll watch you from here.”

She remained silent for a moment, her eyes boring into his as if she were searching for something there. “I’ll never forget you.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to.”

A giggle left her at the same time she began to cry, resulting in an odd yet endearing snort as she closed the distance between them to crush her lips against his. This was a whole new kind of kiss; nothing like the passionate ones they’d exchanged in the intimacy of his room, but not quite close to the soft one that usually came when words failed them. It was eager, heavy with fear and affection fighting each other with such force that it almost felt like a slap in the face—a very good one, filled with so many other things he couldn’t decipher right now. Both their faces pulled closer as they held onto each other, his arms wrapped around her waist as hers were wrapped tightly around his neck, pulling him closer than he could possibly be without melting onto her.

Paul could feel his glasses threatening to fall from his nose, but he couldn’t care less as he tried to etch the memory of her in his brain, already dreading the moment she would pull away. She did, but only after a good minute of holding him back, her fists clenched around the fabric of his shirt, like she was afraid _he_ would leave. God, he wished they had the luxury of staying like this more; but the bright light forcing her to squint as their eyes met was a reminder of how little time she had. Reluctantly, Paul took a step back and let his arms unwrap, mourning the heat of her body as he broke what had been their last embrace.

“Go,” he murmured as she seemed about to take a step towards him. Holding back from wiping the tear rolling down her cheek was an inner conflict he never wished he would endure, but he remained at a respectful distance. “I’ll be watching you the entire time.”

It took Rey a few more seconds to finally nod and take a step back. Then another. Not helping her as she climbed back into the cockpit was almost more difficult than pulling away from their last kiss, but Paul managed to not follow her. He raised the hand she’d held instead, grazing his lips with the tip of his fingers as he watched her close the window and claim the pilot seat. She turned back to him the second after, giving him one last look heavy with multiple meanings he wished he could ignore. 

Everything would’ve been easier if his heart hadn’t gotten in the way, but Paul didn’t regret anything. Every painful heartbeat was worth it; and were he given a choice, he’d do it again. They’d been an exception. A forbidden, beautiful exception.

“I love you,” he whispered as she turned away and focused on the panel facing her.

What he believed was the engine let out a loud rattle as the ship began to gain altitude. Just like he’d suspected earlier, the shaking only seemed minor. He didn’t have much time to dwell on that, though; a faint but clear siren echoed from afar as the ship flew towards the source of the light. _Like the good old days_ , Paul thought as he grabbed the old pair of handcuffs from his inside pocket. Something had told him he’d need it today, even if just as a reminder of his previous treason towards his boss and, incidentally, his country. Putting them on was already easier than the last time, as well as a good distraction from the range of emotions washing over him as he watched Rey’s ship approaching the halo. She was flying at such a fast pace, she was almost out of sight when he heard the second _click_ signaling the cuffs were secured. The sirens intensified; they should be here in less than a minute, now. Breathless, Paul gritted his teeth as he followed the ship’s trajectory, his heart beating at a rhythm that couldn’t be good for a simple human being.

He broke into a ridiculously wide grin as the ship finally disappeared into the luminous void; and for the first time since he’d woken up, he allowed himself a second of vulnerability. A salty taste crawled behind his lips. _She’d done it. They’d done it._ Another tear streamed down his face as the portal closed, accompanied by the familiar sound of car doors being slammed around him. With one deep breath, Paul swallowed his tears and put on a confused face as a group of police officers approached him, suspiciously pointing their weapons at him.

“Oh my— _why is it always you_?”

Of course, Hox would be here. Repressing an incredulous chuckle, Paul forced himself to wince as he turned away from where Rey’s ship had been just a handful of seconds ago, raising his cuffed hands to the group facing him, an apologetic look on his face. “Mind setting me loose?”

A loud sigh he had no doubt belonged to Hox followed his question. Reluctantly, his red-haired colleague stepped towards him and tried to force the iron bracelets open, a flow of distinctively British curses leaving his mouth. The circle of federal agents slowly dissolved around them as their attention went to the stones. Ignoring Hox’s comments about his questionable habits of getting controlled by aliens, Paul risked a glance at the sky. There was nothing left of everything that had transpired in this early morning: just a beautiful, warm-colored sky that announced another glorious spring day, and the promise of new beginnings.


	9. Epilogue

Monday, March sixth, 2019, was one of the stormiest nights Paul had ever seen. A torrential downpour soaked his car as he drove on through the north Georgia suburbs, praying that the rain let up so he could see beyond five feet ahead of him. Normally he drove through the road to Dahlonega at about seventy miles per hour, practically burning rubber as he rushed to get north from his job downtown, but on nights like this he drove at maybe half that speed. 

Even going thirty-five on the highway, he felt like he was moving too fast. All he could do was pray that the lightning all around him hadn’t struck any trees, and therefore that he wouldn’t hit anything on the road. As long as the road was clear, he would make it home safely. 

What was it about March sixth and strange occurrences? Every year without fail, something odd happened ever since Alton had disappeared in 2016. This year, there was this storm from hell that had already caused several accidents—that he’d witnessed—on his ride home; last year there had been odd spikes in activity in the Earth’s magnetosphere; and the year before that…

Rey’s hazel eyes filled his mind, still as vivid and bright as the last time he’d looked into them. Thinking about her, his heart seized in his chest, and his foot involuntarily began to depress the accelerator as he glanced up at his front mirror, where the cut of gray fabric she’d draped around herself was still tied. He shook his head. 

It had been two years since she left him, nearly two years to the date, and  _ fuck,  _ if those weren’t the two longest years of his life. After she’d gone, he’d learned what it was to suffer the aftereffects of what was essentially a breakup, and he’d sought all of the traditional coping mechanisms. Ben and Jerry’s had become his best friend, so had Netflix, romantic comedies, and drinking wine. His other methods included an excess of jogging, using his workouts as a means of distracting himself from his own loneliness. When those methods alone stopped working, he buried himself in his work. 

Work and Como were the only things that made him happy those days, especially on the ones where he’d wake up in a cold sweat having nightmares about Rey’s death or other injuries she could sustain during the war. He’d pictured her broken and defeated more times than he cared to count. Since she wouldn’t ever return to him, he had no way of knowing whether she was still out there. He would look out to the stars some nights and see shooting stars, and in his mind’s eye he would tell himself that it was Rey taking off through hyperspace, that she was off saving the galaxy far, far away, and everything they’d done together had been worth it. 

Of course, that could all have been wishful thinking for all he knew, and she could’ve died before she even returned safely home. If she had, he knew that the minute he found out, his already fractured heart would break. 

Sometimes his dreams wouldn’t be nightmares at all. Sometimes he would imagine her in his bed, tangled up in the sheets with him, holding him close as she whispered sweet nothings in his ear. Other times they were dancing, at Waffle House, in the planetarium, or sometimes in a house they called their own. 

Those nights were his favorites, but he also hated them. He hated the teasing of paradise he saw each night but never truly got to taste. 

There were also times he felt remarkably stupid. He was pining over a woman who’d been gone for two years while he’d known her for only two and a half weeks. He’d fallen so hard, so fast, it sometimes felt like Rey herself had been a dream, but then he’d look at that fabric he still had wrapped around his mirror, and he’d know without a shadow of doubt that she was real. The connection between them was real, and he loved her then, and he loved her now. 

He was so fucking stupid. Loving a woman who was never coming back. This was a guaranteed way to live a long and miserable life, but…

Some part of him still held a candle that she would come back, that they would get their chance, and someday he would look back at those lonely two years and be able to feel no regret about all the pining he’d done. 

Lightning flashed outside of the car, nearly striking a tree on the side of the road, and causing him to just about jump out of his skin.  _ Fuck,  _ he was distracted, and he couldn’t afford to be in weather like this. Driving in the rain was always dangerous, let alone roads with thunder, lightning, and an inch of standing water on them. 

One wrong move and he was fucked. 

Still, this was the anniversary of the day on which he’d lost the love of his life—yeah, he could call her that, something in his very soul told him it was true—and he was allowed to think about her at  _ some point.  _ He just needed to wait until he was safe at home, snuggled up on the couch with Como and their leftover Papa John’s. 

Pushing aside all thoughts of Rey, Paul focused on the road, wincing as a brilliant flash of blue light appeared above him. Assuming it was lightning, he drove on down the highway, slowing his speed slightly as an odd sense of anticipation began to fill him. 

A puzzled expression crossed his face, and he shook his head as he told himself he was being ridiculous. The only reason he could ever feel something like that was because lightning was about to strike, he reasoned, but…

It felt just like the night Rey had arrived, just like the day Alton left. There was an energy to the air, a sort of presence, like some cosmic  _ force  _ was trying to tell him to hold on, it was about to be a bumpy ride. 

_ The Force.  _ He could hear Rey’s voice in his head, it’s deep tones telling him all kinds of stories, all sorts of things she could do, and he could visualize his memories of the times she’d used it—when she’d nearly thrown his dog into a wall, when she’d summoned objects into her hand, or when they’d hovered above his couch in one of their more sensual moments—it wasn’t magic, but it was…  _ something.  _

Distracted again, Paul didn’t notice a very significant change in the road until it was nearly too late. At the last second, a massive object appeared in the middle of the road, and he didn’t even have time to process what it was before he slammed on his breaks, turning his wheel so fast he could feel himself starting to hydroplane. His breathing, his heart, both stopped for a few seconds as he felt the car spin out of control, careening helplessly toward the mass blocking the road as he covered his eyes with his hand. 

If this was going to be how he died, he didn’t really want to witness it. 

The car continued to spin, but just before Paul felt the nausea kick in, just before he passed the point of no return, it stopped, and time stood still. His whole body was shuddering as he realized that his helpless careen into the mass blocking the road had stopped, and he slowly lowered his hand, bending to peer out his window to see what was in front of him. 

What he saw had him positive he might faint at any second. In front of his car sat a massive ship, like some sort of eccentric airplane, but its wings were shaped like— _ holy fuck _ —it was one of the ships Rey had told him about. She…  _ no… _ it was impossible, she’d told him she’d be gone forever, and yet…

The rain was still pouring down, slamming on his roof so hard he thought it might’ve even been hailing, but he had to know, he had to see who had piloted that ship. Not even thinking to grab his umbrella, Paul unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car, wincing as the cold, wet rain began pelting him instantly. 

Thunder tumbled overhead as he came around the front of his car, and he looked up, holding the ship in his gaze as the rain fogged his glasses, forcing him to take them off to see better— _ fuck,  _ why couldn’t he just wake up and see—as he stared up at the massive silhouette. There had to be someone in there, and the fact that this was the third time now that he’d been confronted by someone in a spaceship that couldn’t be a coincidence. 

Still, he was wary about getting his hopes up as he approached the ship, holding his hand above his eyes to shield them from the rain as he tried his best to look for some kind of life sign, any signal that the pilot was awake, alive, and ready to speak with him. 

“Hello?” he called out, then narrowed his eyes as he caught sight of motion, something— _ someone _ —leaping down from what he assumed was the cockpit just as lightning illuminated the sky, allowing him a glimpse of flowing gray fabric and a thin silhouette. 

_ Rey? _

His breath caught in his throat, and he was sure his face looked absolutely stupid with wonder and hope. But then he looked closer into the shadows beneath the wing on his right side, and suddenly there was light again. This time, though, the light wasn’t coming from a bolt of lightning, but from the yellow blade of a lightsaber. 

Yellow light like that of the sun illuminated a very familiar silhouette, the blade held low at the holder’s side, crossing in front of her body until it ended close to the ground. Shock filled his entire body as she tilted the saber so it was closer to her face, and for the first time in two years, he saw Rey, a sad smile on her face as she mouthed something he couldn’t hear. 

He thought it looked suspiciously like his name. 

“Rey,” he whispered, laughing breathlessly as he watched her step out from beneath the shadow, the lightsaber extinguishing as she walked toward him. 

“Paul,” she said, and he caught sight of a tear streaming down her face that had nothing to do with the rain as she stared at him, both of them becoming increasingly soaked as they stood there in the rain. She repeated his name again as a sigh of relief, a prayer, and it was all his feet needed to start carrying him forward, and then he broke out into a run, crossing that last bit of space between them before he lifted her into his arms and spun her around, whirling them both as thunder roared overhead. 

Not even the storm and its loud volume could mask the joyous sound of Rey’s laughter in his ears, a sound that echoed back in his memories as countless visions of her filled his mind, her smile, her laugh, her joy, her love, her lips on his— 

Rey was there, really there, and Paul felt like he was flying in spite of how cold and wet he was. 

“I missed you,” he breathed, his hand coming up to stroke her hair, allowing him to notice for the first time that it was down, and his fingers slid effortlessly through her tresses as she clutched tightly at his shoulders. 

“I missed you, too,” she said softly. 

He set her down, noticing that she was blurry as he moved back, looking into her eyes for the first time in two years. Was she a blur because he couldn’t see, or because his eyes were so full of tears that vision was simply not an option?

He got his answer a second later when he blinked tears from his eyes, and she became crystal clear, a perfect image. It was then that he knew he was crying tears of joy as his hand caressed the base of her skull. “I’ve thought about you every day.” A tiny sob escaped him, almost but not quite buried by the pouring rain. “Every day for the past two years.”

“I’ve thought about you, too,” she admitted. He saw a teardrop make its way down her cheek. “The past two years—“ She bit her lip as if to keep from sobbing for a different reason. “I’ll explain it all to you later, it’s just so much.” 

“Did you win the war?” he asked, and that should’ve been a hopeful question, but he got the impression that regardless of her answer, it wouldn’t be good. 

She nodded. “We did.” Again she bit her lip, then she shook her head. “But it doesn’t matter now, I… I had to come back. I had to find you again. Paul, I—“

“I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Can you… can you please stop talking and kiss me?” she asked, laughing a little as she licked a raindrop from her upper lip. 

A smile parted his lips, then, without hesitating a second longer, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, his fingers threading themselves through her hair as she returned his kiss; and though it had been two years, they fell right back into their old patterns, their old ways. A sense of being complete washed over him, making him feel serene and at peace, but most importantly, he felt alive again as he kissed her. 

Rey’s hands crept up to hold his jaw, her hips leaning into his as he pulled her close, both of them needing to feel as much contact as possible after being starved for so long.  _ God,  _ he’d missed her, and though he hadn’t pictured their reunion containing the risk of lightning strikes, he found he didn’t mind the rain pelting his face as her tongue swept gently into his mouth. In fact, he welcomed it, feeling as if it were washing away all the pain and suffering they’d both endured over the past two years as she pressed into him, seeming to breathe him in as much as he was doing the same to her. 

He could remember the first time they’d done this, his own voice asking her,  _ “can I kiss you?” _ in his head as he kissed her right there beneath the stormy sky in the shadow of her ship, his car’s headlights shining on them both as he smiled into the kiss. 

They were both about to get the world’s worst colds, but at least it would be worth it. He had her back, safe in his arms, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything, even if it saved him from a sinus infection. 

  
  


—

  
  


He had been living outside the city for the last year, he’d told her. And that was a helpful thing when it came to the matter of getting her X-wing off the road. In the end, they’d hidden it in a thick stand of trees not far from the farmhouse he now called home. She figured they’d need to find a more permanent solution soon, but for now, she had only the immediate future in mind. Even in the torrential weather (something Rey had not known could even happen here), she found the place enchanting almost right away, though there was an air of loneliness hanging about it that she knew too well. There was so much land—so much  _ green _ land—and trees in the distance, and she could imagine, on better days, the sky would be bright, blue, and open. For now, the ground was thick with mud, and the air smelled of petrichor and wet leaves, and she loved it. She loved being here, and she loved him. She’d missed him so much. 

Any doubts she still held that she was doing the right thing were dispelled the moment Paul took her hand and led her toward the front door.

They were inside now, and she was just finishing up in the neat little refresher. Paul had given her a towel to dry her hair and a spare set of clothing—sweatpants with a drawstring and a long, soft T-shirt, as large on her as they’d been two years ago and all the more comforting for it. He’d insisted she take a bath too, relax and settle in, that explanations could wait just a bit longer. She hadn’t wanted to, though. She had already waited so long, and she wouldn’t feel right being here until she had told him everything that had passed since their parting. 

It felt like lifetimes ago. 

Was she even the same person now? What if she started to talk, and he realized that the woman he’d helped and sheltered didn’t exist anymore? Could she bear to find out that she had come all this way, taken this chance, only to disappoint herself and him?  

When she returned to the living room, warm and dry at last, she found him sitting on the sofa, wringing his hands, posture stiff. Despite his claims that they had all the time in the world to get to the serious stuff, she could tell he was barely clinging to the last vestiges of patience. Yet his eyes settled on her, and a slow smile replaced the tight-lipped, drawn cast of his face. Rey’s whole body warmed at the sight; she’d forgotten what it felt like to see someone’s demeanor change so instantly at her mere presence. For a moment, she saw Ben there too—his smile and relief after they’d kissed, the explosive, emotional heat of it—and her throat tightened.

There was so much to tell Paul. She hardly knew where to begin.

“I made some tea. It’s herbal,” he said, his voice quiet and low, like he was speaking to a frightened animal. “I considered coffee but though the caffeine might not help.” 

She realized she was just standing there, staring at Paul and trembling with eagerness and nerves. There was a kettle on the table, with two mugs, both full and steaming, and a plate of . . . Rey laughed, the tension in her throat easing. The plate was covered with a spread of Pop Tarts. She remembered the cloying, artificial sweetness of them with pleasure.

“Tea is great. All of this— Oh, hello, you.” 

Como was less circumspect in his feelings at her arrival. Though Paul had ushered him off to another room when they’d arrived to give Rey space, he was free now and dancing around her feet with his tail wagging frantically as he whined and panted. She crouched to give him a thorough scratch behind the ears (and receive a messy barrage of licks to her face), then made her way to the sofa with the dog at her heels, taking the room in properly. It was a cozy space—though definitely that of a committed bachelor—and one she could imagine living in. If that wasn’t getting too ahead of herself. It might have been.

She sank down slowly and tucked her feet up, balancing her mug on a knee. It was hot enough to burn, but she figured the pain proved this wasn’t just a very long, very wonderful vision. Paul was staring at her, expectant and nervous and utterly, perfectly enamoured. He hadn’t changed a bit.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” he said as she sipped her tea and tried to figure out how to begin. “I keep thinking this is a dream.”

“It’s not.” She shifted closer, fighting the urge to embrace him. If she started that now she might not be able to pull away. “I promise. I’ve had loads of dreams about coming back—this is real.”

He shuffled a hand through his hair and thumbed his glasses highed up the bridge of his nose. “I mean, Jesus Christ—I wanted this so much, but I never expected it to happen.”

“There’s a lot of things I never thought would happen that’ve proven me wrong.” She smiled sadly. “Paul . . . there’s so much I need to tell you, but I don’t know what to say. Or how to start. I’m not good at talking.”

“Take your time. Start where you want and go from there.”

“I’m afraid that if I tell you everything, you might . . .”

She looked away, troubled and ashamed for no reason she could name, and pushed her mug back onto the table.

“I might what?”

“Not want me. Here. Or anywhere.”

Before she could process what was happening, he’d leaned over and wrapped his arms around her. “That could never be true.”

He pulled her closer, and she held him right back, and that was it—she started to cry, over all the things she’d thought she had finished crying over. And then she started to talk. 

She started with Crait, how she’d arrived back in her galaxy almost exactly where she’d left it and how she’d known, that day, that the war was far from over and Ben was not ready to be the person she knew he could be. She told Paul about the long year after that, her life with the Resistance and yet always a little apart from it, never able to feel she could be completely honest with any of them even as she struggled with the temptation to reach out to the man with whom she’d once fought side-by-side. She told him about the horrific, grueling quest for Exegol, and what she’d learned about herself, and Ben, and the state of the Force between them. How he returned, in the end, and gave everything he had for her.

It had been ages since she’d told anyone any of this, and Paul was the first person she had told it all to, from start to finish, without worrying about how to phrase it or who she might hurt by being too honest. By the time she was halfway through, she felt almost as if she were telling someone else’s story. Maybe that was a good thing; maybe it meant she had reached a certain peace with even the worst parts.

She was well into her third mug of tea—Paul had just kept topping her off as she spoke—when she finally felt herself reaching the end.

“And that was a year ago, just about,” she said. “The war took a while longer to end, but I had my own goals by then. I needed . . . I needed to get away from it. So I left, once things were starting to stabilize. I spent some time on a planet called Tatooine. Another desert, if you can believe that.”

Paul made a sympathetic noise. He knew more than enough of her history to see the sick irony there.

She chuckled bitterly. “I wasn’t planning to stay forever, but I had no real plan to  _ go _ , either. Until I woke up one morning and felt like I wanted to claw my skin off. I thought I’d gotten swarmed by sand fleas overnight, it was that bad. But it was all in my head. Panic. Restlessness. I wanted so much for him to be there, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that he  _ was  _ in some way.”

Mourning Ben had been a long, painful process marked by fits and starts. She’d told people what he’d done, as much of the truth about him as she could, but anyone who might have understood to the degree she needed was dead. Lando and Chewie had been the most help, in the end. They’d sought her out more than once to reminisce about Ben as they’d known him, try to offer what comfort they could, remind her that Leia and Luke knew what he’d done too, in the strange way the Force must have made possible. 

They insisted she wasn’t alone. But she  _ was _ , whether she was with the Resistance or striking out on her own journey of discovery when the expectations got to be too much to handle.

“It hit me that being on Tatooine was the last thing I ought to be doing, and taking that name . . . Skywalker? I don’t know what I was thinking. It wasn’t mine. It wasn’t even his, really.”

“You were grieving,” Paul said quietly. “It was a way to feel connected. Something you could carry with you.”

“Yeah, but I’d always thought I was no one. Just Rey. And I’d finally been feeling all right about that. There was something . . . really freeing about having no sort of legacy to uphold. To be my own person. So I don’t know why I let myself start to think there was anything wrong with it. Why I’d want to take up a mantle so steeped in horror.”

“Hope too, though. From the sound of it. It’s a name that meant something good to your galaxy.”

“It is. But everything ends. Right? Even sad stories. Even good things.”

She dared to look at him. He was watching her keenly, his own tea long gone cold.

“I’m sorry,” she said, unsure what she was apologizing for. The intensity of his focus was making her self-conscious. “I told you, I hardly feel like the person I was the last time I saw you.”

Paul considered. “You are different. Rey, you’ve been through more than anyone deserves in a lifetime. Anyone would change. But you’re still the person I remember. The person I . . .”

“Missed?”

“Loved.” He shook his head. “Love.”

Her breath caught, not with displeasure but with such profound relief she had to remind herself to breathe. 

“I shouldn’t— I understand if you can’t return it,” Paul rushed to add, his hand seeking hers. “If you maybe never did. I always— I know you must be—”

Before he could babble further, she pressed forward and kissed him, gently and just long enough that he stilled.

“I love you too, Paul.” She kissed him one more time, then moved away. “Why do you think I came back?”

“I know. But I know you felt something for him too. For Ben.” He steeled himself a bit, hands relaxed in his lap, and did not sound accusatory when he asked, “Was that love too?”

Without hesitation, she nodded. “Yes.”

She could see now how Paul must worry—that she was still mourning and seeking any sort of resolution or relief. That he was a second choice, a consolation replacement for the man she had lost. 

Yet she’d agonized for a very long time about the same thing. And then she had made the decision to find a way to return. Fortunately, after all the time it had taken her to work out the complexities of the chain worlds theory detailed in one of the old Jedi texts, probabilities and risks and unknown quantities, she was confident that all her soul-searching had led her to the right decision. If Paul was still out there, she wanted to be with him.

“It was another sort of love, I think,” she went on. “So fraught, and new, and . . .  _ so  _ deep. I don’t really know how to explain it. I’ve never felt for anyone the way I felt about Ben. But I’ve never felt for anyone the way I feel about you, either. I’m never going to forget him or what he meant to me, but I knew that if I stayed in my galaxy, I’d be heartsick for you. Something would be missing.”

“You know, back when you were here, and told me about him, I had this realization . . .” He trailed and looked at her a little sheepishly. “This is cheesy as fuck, but bear with me—I thought that it sounded like you were describing a soulmate. Or . . . what you said—a dyad?”

“Two that are one,” Rey said, trying not to dwell on how strange it was to hear that word in his voice. “That’s what he and I are.”

The ache had never gone away completely. The space that had been occupied by Ben’s presence in the Force felt like a scar knitted into the very essence of who she was. Part of him left behind. But it didn’t make what she felt for Paul, then and now, any less real.

Paul nodded. “Dyad. Soulmate. You, and Ben. And what we had was maybe something different. You were the love of my life.  _ Are _ —if that’s not too difficult for you to hear right now.”

“It’s exactly what I needed to hear, actually.” She bit her lip. “The galaxy didn’t need me anymore. It didn’t need more Jedi. But I need you. I  _ want  _ you, and deciding to come back here was the first time I’d ever done something just for myself and . . . Paul, I love you so much. Even if this were the only day we had together, I wanted you to know that. But . . .”

“But?”

“I’d rather it wasn’t. I’d rather stay for good. I feel like I belong here, with you.”

“You do.” He reached for her and cupped the side of her face in his palm, his fingers trailing carefully over her temple and the fine hairs by her ear. His thumb drifted down to the corner of her lips. “You really do.” 

He kissed her, and this time she deepened it, and soon they were horizontal on the sofa—just kissing, at first, slow and careful, and then just lying there together, legs tangled, chest to chest. The rain was still falling, beating an insistent rhythm against the roof and windows as thunder rolled every now and again. Rey closed her eyes and let herself sleep at last, wrung out and worn but so, so grateful to be home at last.  

  
  


—

 

They spent the next days locked in the house, bodies tangled in a warm mess. Paul’s house was infinitely bigger than the one he’d welcomed Rey into two years ago, but it wasn’t as familiar. Every now and then, Rey noticed a piece of furniture or a book she remembered, but the place remained unknown territory. Only Paul made it feel like home, and so she held on to him. They sometimes spent hours talking, their conversations punctuated with laughs and a few tears here and there—but their mouths were mostly on each other, making up for lost time.   


She’d thought she would need time to get used to him, but it was as if no time had passed between them: they immediately found their rhythm again, fell back into their old habits with an ease that only confirmed she’d made the right choice. Everything between them felt natural, with that new hint of calm they didn’t have the first time. There wasn’t any deadline hanging above their heads, no sense of guilt chasing her every time their lips met. For the first time in her life, Rey felt like she’d found what people called peace, and found she really liked it.   


Paul had taken her to the city market a few days after her arrival. She’d been reluctant to leave this new place before even getting used to it, but having a look at this new town had only increased her excitement at the prospect of a new life. Back in Atlanta, something had always prevented her from becoming a full part of Paul’s life. His job, her status, the many things and people waiting for her…    


None of these things were on her mind, this time. This place felt just as welcoming as she needed it to be, with enough room for her to stay.   


Day after day, she became more familiar with the house and its many rooms. The kitchen was much larger than the previous one, with far more cupboards for her to explore. The living room got her attention any time she felt like watching the many new things on the holonetflix, but Paul’s room remained her favorite. It was small enough to feel safe, with sheets that smelled like him and enveloped her just perfectly every night. His presence there probably had much to do with her preferences, and what happened between these four walls—well, she couldn’t deny how biased she was. His arms always ended up wrapped around her waist, warm and strong against her stomach; and the two of them always ended up naked and sweaty, mumbling incoherent things as they melted into each other, desperate for the connection they’d both craved for the last two years.   


“What?”   


She was still breathless, slowly coming back from the dizziness of the last minutes. Under her, Paul seemed in just the same state: his hands hadn’t left her waist, fingers digging into her skin and slightly trembling as the last waves of pleasure washed over him as well. She could still feel him inside her, his body fitting just right with hers and making her feel complete. His eyes opened at her question, then widened a little as he seemed to process it.   


“Marry me,” he repeated.   


He looked incredulous at his own words, and somehow scared. His eyes didn’t leave hers for one second, like he was frozen on the spot, but all Rey could feel was the fire growing inside her chest.    


She stared back at him for a second, then another, before she heard herself reply.    


“When?”   


A short silence followed her new question, then Paul broke into a wide smile.   


“Some time,” he murmured hastily. “Any time. Tomorrow?” She let out a chuckle at his eagerness, which he returned sheepishly. “It doesn’t have to be a huge ceremony, doesn’t even need to— I just want to be yours. Forever.”   


Rey’s heart made a loop in her chest.  _ He already was. Always would be _ . A small laugh left her as she gave him a nod, and another before she finally kissed him. She’d lost count of the kisses they’d exchanged since her return, lost track of how long they’d managed to stay away from each other so far. Never very long, anyway. She’d missed him way too much to let anything separate them again, and she wasn’t even half done with these catch-up sessions. Nothing had ever felt so much like home.   


“Can we just go to Waffle House before? I miss it, and—”   


It was now Paul’s turn to laugh. His hands slowly left her waist to find her hair as he gave her an amused nod. “Is that a yes?”   


“Of course it is.”   


His lips found hers in the blink of an eye, and Rey felt her heart warm up again. This wasn’t how she’d envisioned being proposed to—she’d never even thought this would happen—but this was perfect. She could feel her smile growing bigger when Paul pulled away, his fingers absently brushing her neck and cheeks as he spoke again.   


“It can wait, though. We could have a big celebration if you want, I can invite my mother and uncles, maybe the neighbors, and—”   


“No.” She shook her head rapidly, her hands coming up to cup his face too. “We’ve both waited long enough,” she added in a murmur. “Let’s do this. Tomorrow.”   


She caught a glimpse of Paul’s smile through her lashes. He was beaming, laughing and looking at her with stars in his eyes; and just like that, Rey found out that she could, indeed, fall in love a little more.   


“Tomorrow,” he repeated pensively. “Waffle House, and… getting married. Sounds like a busy day.”   


“A good day.”   


Another chuckle left them both as their words slowly sunk in.  _ Married _ . If someone had told Rey she would eventually get married, she wouldn’t have believed it. She never thought she’d ever leave Jakku either, or save the galaxy, or fall in love. None of this should’ve happened, and yet it had: she’d lived more than she ever should have in the span of two years, lost more than she ever possessed and found everything she never knew she needed.   


Something tingled in her chest as she kissed Paul again, her heart beating faster than ever. The Force worked in curious ways, but she felt like this was its way of balancing everything she’d been through so far. For every day spent under the burning sun scavenging old wreck ships, every loss she’d suffered, every deception that had tried to shut her down, she knew better days were to come.   


Every day since her return had been better than the next, and she had a feeling many more were to come.

 


End file.
